


...As Stupid Does

by chocoholicannanymous



Series: Stupid 'verse [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Building A New Life, Gen, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, better living through werewolves, initially off-screen Derek, no on-screen vampires, platonic imprinting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 97,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4443581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocoholicannanymous/pseuds/chocoholicannanymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking a walk in the woods never ends well for Stiles. Never. He really, really should have learned that lesson by now. Also? Apparently Port Angeles is not as free from the supernatural as he'd thought. Because of course it isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...  
> This part of the series has a different pace, and a different style. The first half moves somewhat slowly, and is completely focused on Stiles's new life, and him getting "back on track" after having his life turned upside down in Beacon Hills.  
> Derek won't be back until in the second half of the story - sorry, but that's how it is.  
> I'll be posting a chapter a day initially - I have 50+K so far... Tags will be added to after chapter three.  
> For this 'verse, the Alpha pack did capture Erica and Boyd, but let them go - Erica chose to to keep running, while Boyd returned to Beacon Hills. Also, the Darach did not make an appearence in Beacon Hills as on the show.

Once upon a time Stiles would have told anyone who would listen – and quite a few who wouldn’t – that he wasn’t stupid, thank you very much. He doesn’t any longer. Not because he’s begun to think less of his brains, but, well. Stupid is as stupid does, and Stiles? The record shows that Stiles has done  **a lot** of stupid things.

Then again, that’s more because he’s easily bored and much too impulsive for his own good. Or, you know, anyone else’s. (He still carries the guilt over Scott getting bit. Over  **getting** Scott bit. )

That needs to change, and Stiles swears that he’ll make it so when he starts his new life – the one he only has because he was stupid and got himself... “involved” with Derek Hale. The one his dad gave up  **everything** to give him.

 

They arrive in Port Angeles October 1th. Stiles puts his new plan, his new lifestyle to the test that same day. It takes time, and he backslides on occasion, but for the largest part it works.

His grades are where they should be. He makes friends, both boys and girls. No one is as close to him as Scott, nor as amazing as Lydia (who totally was his friend for a while there), as badass as Allison (and by some grace or other it no longer hurts to think of her) or as fabulous and sassy as Jungle’s drag queens. (He finds new drag queens though. He is, after all, not  **completely** stupid.)

He tries out for – and makes – the track team. Endless bouts of suicides and countless laps around the lacrosse field coupled with running for his life has done wonders for both speed and stamina, it appears.

And he fixes things at home. This is easily the most important thing to him. He. Fixes. Things. At home, with his father.

Being careful not to jump into any stupid shit does wonders for the relationship between Stiles and his father. Not having any  **supernatural** shit to jump into even more so. The most important part of it, however, is the fact that he no longer lies to his dad.

Not having to keep anyone’s secrets makes him feel light and free, and that carries through when he talks to his dad. Still, it’s not enough to just stop with that, or so he decided when they left Beacon Hills. So these days Stiles is probably one of the most honest teenagers in the state of Washington, maybe even the country.

No more white lies about attraction, or friendships, or school. No more evasive maneuvers. None of that. He doesn’t tell his dad  **everything** of course, because first of all that would mean dragging up some ugly shit he wants to keep in the past and secondly everyone needs some measure of privacy.

He just won’t lie. Not about going on a date with a sweet freshman with gorgeous black braids or about turning down the offer for a second date because her laugh doesn’t do half as much for him as that of the guy sitting behind him in Spanish.

Not about turning down the lanky senior from the swim team (though he  **does** keep quiet about the reason being the guy’s eyes are a copy of Derek Hale’s).

Not about sleepless nights, or missing Scott – and his mom – or about that one homophobic ass that went after him when the news of Stiles being bi hit the school. (Nor about his relief – and his silent gloating – when the boy is taken to task.)

He doesn’t even lie about what’s  **really** in the casserole he serves for Sunday dinner.

As for John Stilinski, well, he tries harder too. Being the sheriff, even of a small town such as Beacon Hills, might have meant higher status but being a “simple” police officer in Port Angeles means better hours and significantly less stress. This means Stiles eases up on the healthy food, and John stops trying to sneak as much junk by his son. Even better, he goes days, sometimes weeks without alcohol.

John too makes new friends, that make him take up fishing, and even start talking about maybe dating again.

Things are  **good** , better than they have been since before Scott got bitten, and Stiles welcomes 2013 with enthusiasm. He’s happy.

The fact that this doesn’t trigger Stiles’ spidey sense just proves that he doesn’t have one.  _And exactly how unfair isn’t that?_

 

It all ends the day Stiles tags along on one of those fishing trips and comes across a gorgeous male that would have all of Stiles’ hormones singing the hallelujah if it wasn’t for one simple fact. He’s willing to swear on the fact that not even a minute earlier that same guy was a huge wolf. Werewolf.

Fuck.

He doesn’t realize he said it out loud until the guy turns and nails Stiles with a dark-eyed stare.

Double fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

So. There’s a werewolf – or a guy he’s pretty damn sure is a werewolf – in Port Angeles. Fuck. Stiles can feel his heart speed up, and forces himself to relax. He can’t go all the way, like he would if he was safe at home behind a barrier of mountain ash with weapons within reach, but he needs to calm down before he passes out.

A little panic is good, keeps him on edge, gives him ideas, but he’s too close to the wrong side of that line. He forces air down in his lungs, one deep breath at a time, but never lets his eyes leave the wolf.

He’s a survivor of Beacon Hills. You don’t get to call yourself that without learning the basic rules of dealing with potential threats. And this guy? This guy has  **all** the potential.

Stiles studies the wolf carefully. Dark eyes, black hair, russet skin – most likely native – and bulging muscles. As for age, well, based on looks he’d say around 25, but after a while he notices something playful about this wolf that makes him think younger.

Less predator, more puppy. Maybe.

And  **yes** , he’s wised up enough to keep that sentiment to himself.

He really doesn’t have a death wish. Previous displays of contrary behavior be damned. He doesn’t.

If this wolf really does display the same puppyish tendencies that so defines his best friend – and yes, Scott still holds that title, no matter what – then that’s Stiles’s out. Or in. Whichever gets him safely back to his dad and his new, normal life.

The guy flashes him a worried smile – one that ramps up the reminders of Derek, thank you very much not at all – and Stiles braces himself. This is it, the first real move. How everything else plays out will be dependent on whatever comes out of the wolf’s mouth in the next few seconds.

“Werewolf? Are you one of those live role players? Or are you on drugs? Do I need to call for help, a doctor or someone?”

He’s torn between scoffing and admiring. The guy is good. Stiles almost believe him, wants to, and he  **knows** that werewolves are real. Part of it is that the guy’s good looking, sure, but it’s his personality too. This, Stiles is willing to bet, is the one in his circle of friends who was sent to ask for extra cookies, who was once used as a front when trying to get away with something shady.

Doesn’t help. Puppy or not, this  **is** a werewolf. Stiles knows this as clearly as he knows his own name.

“Right. Let’s play that game shall we? Uh, I just...imagined that there was a big ass wolf standing over there with a pair of shorts in its jaws that just so **happened** to blur into...you. Right? Want to try that again?” _Maybe add the part about the little red riding hood?_ his mouth wants to add, but he manages to swallow it down and shut up at the last second. _Shit_. His mouth keeps getting him into trouble, over and over. What he **should** have done was agree with the wolf. Instead he had challenged him. Mocked him.

God, he is so damn  **stupid** sometimes.

At least he’s not wearing a red hoodie. (He burned that after the first time he’d ended up...servicing Derek, ironically wearing that used-to-be-beloved garment. None of his remaining red clothes had made it out of Beacon Hills – and he hasn’t replaced them. He’s never replacing them, he thinks.)

The implications of what he’s just done keeps crashing into him. He’s “outed” himself as some in the know about the supernatural – and, as he should know, most members don’t take kindly to humans knowing.

That had, after all, been one of the main complaints from the Alpha pack – maybe even the biggest one in the end. Stiles would have been killed outright within seconds of them finding out if not for Derek claiming him as belonging to the pack (“property” his mind injects, yet for once he hadn’t minded it, not when it saved him. After had been a whole other story). They’d still tried, still meant to silence him permanently, only they’d been sneakier about it.

And now he’s there again. He was given an out – and he really, really should have gone with the very credible excuse of drugs seeing as he usually  **stinks** of his meds – and was too stupid to take it.

_ Stupid, stupid,  _ _**stupid** _ _.  _ Always so damn stupid.

His survival instincts has been shot to hell since moving here.

He’d be grateful – since it’s because he hasn’t needed them, because of over five months of peace – if not for the  **survival** part.

Maybe though, maybe he can back-track, save this...

“I’m sorry, I must sound crazy. Werewolves?” he forces a chuckle, “Clearly I’m seeing things, I just... Hunger hallucinations? And I’m due for another dose of my meds just about...” he checks the time on his phone “ehm, 30 minutes ago. So I should probably get on that. Oh, and change reading materials, huh?” He tries for another chuckle, to support his words (which are all true, in a fashion, but) but fails. Spectacularly. He blames the way the wolf stares at him.

He’s not getting out of this. Fuck. Again.

Something crosses the wolf’s face – it looks...fond. Like Stiles just unwittingly reminded him of a favorite sister or something. It’s immediately followed by careful determination.

“Look, don’t panic, okay? I know it seems scary, but I’m not dangerous, not to you. I don’t hurt humans, I swear. I’m a protector.”

He can’t help laughing.

“Afraid? You think I’m afraid of you? Good thing I never got out of the habit of carrying wolf’s-bane.” Seriously. There’s a doctored can of mace, werewolf version, in his pocket at all times and his hand is already on its way out when the boy? man? replies.

“Wolf’s-bane? What’s that?”

**Then** he freaks out.

When he comes back to himself he’s got his back against a tree, pressed so hard that he can feel the structure of the bark through his layers, his hands are held up in front of him as if trying to ward something – the wolf? reality? – off. The wolf, well, he’s standing at a respectable distance, doing his best (or so Stiles assumes) to look harmless.  _Puppy._

“Oh, fuck. Damn it.” There’s no real heat in his curses. He’s rolled with the punches before, he can do it again. He’ll have to.

Wolf’s-bane doesn’t work on this wolf – or his pack, if he has one. He looks too healthy to be an Omega though, so Stiles will act as if he does. The fact that the vulnerability to wolf’s-bane is different means Stiles can’t assume than anything else he’s learned is true either. And  **that** means he doesn’t know how to keep himself – or his  **dad** – safe.

His dad. Fuck. He’s going to have to make a choice now. Go back to lying – his stomach lurches – or share the last of the secrets he’s kept and hope his dad doesn’t hate him for it. Or, you know, lock him up in some psych ward.

The laugh leaving his mouth is harsh and bitter. All this. All the lies, the sneaking around, the guilt... The risks he’d taken to insure that his dad stayed safe and out of it. All that, and now it’s for nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s beginning to look like I’m going to have to tell my dad that werewolves are real. And I’ve been pretty much risking **everything** to avoid that particular hornets nest. So what do you **think** is wrong?”

The wolf stares at him. And stares some more.

“Normally people would freak out about the fact that werewolves are real, not about whether or not to tell anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the first werewolf I’ve run into, okay? Piss me off enough and you won’t even be the first one I kill.”

Because he  **has** killed a werewolf before, has taken a bat (made from rowan, soaked in wolf’s-bane infusion) and bashed in an Alpha’s head, all the while praying that there was no way for a human pack member – which technically he’d been, no matter how unwillingly or how ambiguous his status – to become an Alpha.

(Either there wasn’t, or he hadn’t been pack enough. Still, he’d walked away just as human as before. He’s cried himself to sleep from the gratitude more times than he can count. Doesn’t change the fact that he still has nightmares though.)

Afterwards he’d disposed of the body, and pretended like nothing. It had worked surprisingly well. This is the first time he’s even hinted at it to another person (yes, it’s one of the few ugly secrets he still carries) and he curses his lack of a filter.

The man – yes, the wolf in front of him is definitely a man, not a boy – looks at him with surprise.

“You...killed a werewolf? **How?** ”

“Yeah, **not** telling you that. Why? Is it really that hard to believe the puny little human killed a big bad wolf? I’ll tell you one thing though: I didn’t exactly sarcasm him to death.”

Not for lack of trying though, but he doesn’t say that. He’s already saying too much, seeing as he’s talking to a strange werewolf that is possibly (probably) immune against wolf’s-bane. It could be that he simply just doesn’t know about it, like Scott hadn’t at first, but. He’s not counting on it (And either way, neither option is reassuring.)

He can feel the after effects of his freak-out, leaving him more than a little wobbly, and keeps leaning against the tree. It’s not uncommon, unfortunately, but luckily it wasn’t a full on panic attack. He’ll get back to normal soon. He hopes.

The wolf gives him a calculating look, complete with a deep breath –  _ fuck werewolf noses, just...fuck them _ – and seems to come to some sort of decision.

“You should probably sit down – you’re not looking too steady.”

Of course he isn’t. His life is being turned upside down again, and this time... This time he  **knows** what it means. He hadn’t when Scott was bitten, or when he first got on his knees for Derek. Now however he does know, and it’s tearing him apart.

He’s being half led, half pushed to a fallen log, and sits down without protest. He needs to breathe, to think, and maybe that will be easier if he doesn’t have to focus on not falling down.

“You just.. Sit here, and calm down. Seriously, your heartbeat... I need to check something, and I have to phase to do it. Okay?”

“Phase”? Stiles isn’t sure what he means, though a calculated guess would be shifting, but nods anyway. It’s not like he has much of a choice. He’s fast, agile, and much too used to running for his life. He’s at a serious disadvantage here though. His wolf’s-bane might not work, he doesn’t know the terrain, he doesn’t know exactly what this wolf is capable of, and he’s pretty damn sure he’s not going to escape from this until the wolf decides it’s done with him.

So. Sitting down, shutting up –  _ don’t think about that, don’t think _ – and waiting.

Phasing does turn out to mean shifting. Into a real wolf. He averts his eyes slightly, as the guy pulls his shorts off, but once the transformation starts he allows himself to stare. It’s probably not a good sign that he barely reacts to any of it.

There’s no gradual transition, just a shimmering explosion that becomes a  **mountain** of fur. There are no traces of the Beta shape he’s used to, and luckily not of an Alpha form either. It’s a regular wolf – just so much bigger. Its coat is a beautiful, glossy chocolate brown and its stance indicates strong focus.

Once the actual shift is done he’s finding it hard to concentrate. Forget trying to come up with a plan. His thoughts are all over the place, and he can’t seem to focus for shit.

And he really is hungry.

He’s colder, much colder that he should be, surely, because it might be winter in Washington, but it’s March and not even January was this bad.  _ Shock _ his brain tries to inform him, and he’s sure that means something, should mean something, but the word doesn’t really register through the fog his mind seems full of.

And then the wolf is human, and dressed, and serious again.

Time to try again. Something.  **Anything** .

“Look. This has been...something. But I really need to get back now, so–”

“You can’t leave.” And the playfulness is gone, replaced by a look that, yes, is all predator.

And like stupid, stupid prey Stiles freezes, and his heart starts beating even faster. Right.  _ So much for the harmless protector then. _ His brain, and his (by now) semi-finely honed survival instincts – that finally,  _ fucking finally _ , decides it’s needed again – kicks in again, and he starts analyzing the situation.

That is, after all, what has kept him alive since his first encounter with the supernatural: he is good at looking at his surroundings and coming up with solutions. He plans for the worst, adapts, and that’s worked fine so far.

It helped him kill that Alpha, for instance.

His wolf’s-bane mace might not be as effective as he’s used to, as it’s  **meant** to, but it can still work as a distraction. Hopefully. Buy him some time to– There’s a fallen branch to his left, that might function as a bat, and that rock over there–

“Calm down. Your heartbeat... It’s deafening. You sound like you’re going to have a heart attack. I’m not going to hurt you, I **swear** , you just can’t leave **yet** , okay? The packs... Some of the others are coming, and we really need to talk to you.”

More wolves. Meaning Stiles won’t be making any kind of quick exit. He doesn’t know why they’re coming, or why they feel they need to talk to him – okay, so that’s a lie, he totally gets  **that** part – or how they know to come. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to know any of it though, and that he doesn’t get a choice.

And that’s when the words register. Pack **s** . As in more that one.

Oh, he’s so screwed.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles slumps down, feeling defeated and depleted. The wolf sits down next to him – not too close, but close enough to grab him should he try to run – and really, Stiles would move away, or protest, only he’s so cold and the wolf radiates heat, and he doesn’t really have the energy to do anything but try and soak that heat up. So he just  **sits** there.

“So, what’s your name? I’m Quil,” the wolf offers.

Stiles doesn’t answer. Partly because he doesn’t want to give anything away, and he’s too out of it to not, and partly because he’s drained and needs to conserve energy for the confrontation he knows is coming.

The wolf – Quil – obviously picks up on Stiles’s mood, because he doesn’t push and doesn’t try to talk again. They sit there, quiet, and just wait.

It’s calming, maybe too much so, and Stiles is lulled into a strange state of peace where his mind is almost silent.

He could fall asleep like this.

He’s not going to, because “suicidal” is not actually one of his many faults, but it would be so very easy. Too easy.

He sees the wolf turn slightly, a sign that something is happening – probably that the other wolves are coming, seeing as the guy is calm. It takes several more minutes though before Stiles sees anything. All courtesy of those dull human senses.

They come out from the trees without sound, and it looks damn impressive. Or, you know, it would if he wasn’t being held under duress (more or less). Now they just represent something he doesn’t want to be involved in, something he wants to just get away from.

There’s three of them, all clearly from the same mold that made the one next to him: tall, muscular, native looking. He can’t help wonder if they’re related, or if the likeness is due to them being native, or wolves. It could be a little of all three, he supposes.

He studies them, in the same way he studied the first and that they are studying him, and he soon starts seeing a pattern. There’s at least two packs, and he’s willing to bet that out of the new arrivals one – taller and leaner than the first wolf, but not the biggest of the three – share a pack with with the wolf standing next to Stiles, while the two others share a pack.

One of them, the tallest, towering over all of them – and Stiles has never felt this short before, because shut up, 5’10” is a fully respectable height for a 17 year old guy – is obviously an Alpha. He radiates power, in the same way as the Alpha Stiles had killed (the way Derek had never quite managed – which Stiles feels is rather telling). He can read that power. Stiles swallows. He can  **see** the Alpha’s power. That’s...new. And disturbing. Very, very disturbing.

“Sam.”

“Quil.”

Men of few words, huh? So not ready for the full Stiles experience then. (He’s not either, but.) Still, even those two words tells him a lot. It gives him the Alpha’s name – Sam – as well as the fact that this Sam almost certainly isn’t  **Quil’s** Alpha. There’s respect there, and a bond of sorts, but not, Stiles thinks, a full pack bond.

Looking closely at Sam there are nothing physical to suggest he’s any older than the other three, but at the same time he carries an air around him that suggests he is. Stiles’s final observation, before moving on, is that he seems to be a good Alpha. The way Quil responds to him supports that theory.

The one assuming the position of Sam’s Second has a sneer plastered over his face, and looks dangerous. Quil might be the protector he claimed to be, but this one? This one is a killer. And all too willing, it seems, to kill Stiles.

The third guy stands next to Quil. His body language and position hints at him having the higher rank, yet being a friend first. But. There’s something about the wolf, or rather about the way he  **stares** at Stiles, that is unnerving. He averts his eyes, and looks for something else to focus on.

With four wolves to compare Stiles realizes that he can, in fact, see the difference in power in them. Sam outshines the others, as an Alpha should, and Quil has none at all. (He has something though, something Stiles thinks might be magic, that all four share.) As for the one that stares and the one that sneers, they’re about equal. If he had to, he’d hazard a guess that Sneer Wolf has higher rank, but he’s pretty sure that Stare Wolf has more power.

Huh.

There’s something there, he knows it, but right now his mind isn’t working with him. Chances are there’s something there – he’s usually right about these kind of things – but it’s equally possible that it’s something he doesn’t have (and probably never will have) all the pieces to turn into an understandable picture.

Plus, he’s got more important things to think – and worry – about. Such as how the Alpha looks at him. It’s as if he’s trying to take Stiles apart and examine each piece until he knows exactly what makes Stiles tick. He doesn’t like it. It reminds him too much of Derek.

It’s not the same, no – Sam doesn’t look at him like a piece of meat, or ass – but it’s still almost as terrifying as how Derek used to look at him and that makes his stomach turn.

He pulls on his reserves, on that inner core of strength and sheer dumb stubbornness that’s kept him alive so many times before, and tries to ready himself for what’s to come. Push comes to shove he’ll play the dad card. Even the Alpha pack at their most rabid had (mostly) been hesitant to give an officer of the law a personal reason to hunt them down. Hopefully these wolves will have the same sense of self preservation.

There’s no feeling that this is a life or death situation though, and that means his body – and mind – won’t let him use those reserves fully. Means he needs to get this over and done with quickly, as he won’t be good for any kind of confrontation, fast talking himself out of anything, or well, anything at all for much longer. He fidgets slightly. Maybe that’s what they’re waiting for, for him to break? If that’s the case it won’t take long.

“Quil tells me you know about werewolves, and that it seems to be first-hand knowledge.” Quil had told him, huh? Now, Stiles might not have wolfy senses, but he’s pretty sure he did **not** miss any kind of conversation between them. Meaning Quil must have somehow “told” the Alpha this while shifted. _Interesting..._ “Tell me about it. Starting, I think, with your name and where you first ran into werewolves.”

It’s not a command, not exactly but it’s clear that this Sam expects Stiles to comply. He’s used to being obeyed. Total Alpha.

Too bad Stiles doesn’t do well with people going Alpha on him.

“How about no?”

All four of them stare at him like he’s said something outrageous – and he guesses that to a pack (or two, but who’s counting?) of werewolves the thought of a human denying the Alpha something is exactly that. Doesn’t change how he feels.

Sneer Wolf looks even more ready to attack, to grab Stiles and  **shake** the answers out of him, but the Alpha luckily remains calm. If that changes Stiles will take his chances with the wolf’s-bane mace. It most likely won’t work, but. He’ll go down fighting.

Sam doesn’t  **seem** like he’s going to get violent though. Instead he looks at Stiles in that trying-to-analyze-your-basic-components way again, and then does something wholly unexpected. He softens. He visibly relaxes and tries to make himself seem less threatening. It would probably work too, if Stiles hadn’t seen the same behavior before. In Erica, before she knocked him out with a part of his jeep. In Peter. In Derek. It only serves to make Stiles even more nervous, and stiff.

When Sam speaks again his voice is softer too, as if he thinks Stiles will respond better to being treated like he’s about to break. (Yeah, okay, so he  **is** , but that’s not important now.)

“You need to understand, we’re protectors. When something – or some **one** – is a potential threat to that? We need to make sure. And with you claiming to have killed a werewolf–” He is cut of by a snarl, a very feral sounding snarl, from his Second and Stiles tenses. These guys don’t even know the circumstances, and would, if they really **are** “protectors”, have done the same themselves. And yet he has no doubt when it comes to the angry Second’s willingness to rip out Stiles’s throat (with his teeth, most likely) for doing so.

Nothing happens though. Sam twists his head, looks at his Second and then focuses on Stiles again. Great. Time to break out the small words. He channels his dad the best he can, straightens his back and looks Sam straight in the eyes.

“What **you** need to understand is that I. Don’t. Want. To. Be. Involved. Seriously. I have no desire whatsoever to interfere, or be a threat. All I wanted was a quiet walk away from all the bragging about who’s caught the biggest fish. That’s all.” Of course, he should have avoided the forest. Bad shit always happens to Stiles in forests. Always. “I wasn’t looking for an invite to the supernatural club. I just want a boring, normal life. Okay?”

_Deep breaths, focus, hope for the best._

“So how about we all forget this ever happened and go our separate ways?”

It’s a long-shot, he knows it, but there is something about this Sam that suggests it might not be completely hopeless. He holds his breath as the Alpha opens his mouth, only to feel the air rush out of him like he’s been punched in the stomach when another voice interrupts.

“Sam?”

They both turn and stare. Well,  **Stiles** stares, open-mouthed. Sam has more of an inquisitive, lifted-eyebrow look going on. It’s Quil, and the way  **he** looks... It’s incredulous, like he’s seen a ghost or something (or, you know, a werewolf – if he was a normal person) and something tells Stiles it doesn’t bode well for him.

“That...might not be a good idea. Just, look,” and he nods towards Stare Wolf.

Stiles looks, but can’t see anything worthy of interference. Of course, he doesn’t  **know** this wolf, so he could be missing any number of things. It’s just...the guy just stands there, okay? And stares. At Stiles. He’s acting the same way he has since arriving, so why bother now? What about his behavior made Quil think he needed to stop any possibility of Stiles walking away?

Whatever it is, he can’t see it. He’s the only one though, or so it seems. Sam and his Second are both staring at the wolf, wearing matching incredulous looks, and they’re making Stiles nervous.

Nervous enough to start babbling, and scrambling for ways out of this.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? I can keep a secret, you really don’t have to worry about me.”

He might  **want** to tell at least his father, and (if he can find a way that won’t trigger any alarms or cause a panicked visit) maybe Scott, but when push comes to shove? Stiles is a pragmatist. Getting away from the werewolves in one piece, and without getting pulled into any more supernatural shit is his number one priority. Of course, he  **could** just promise, and then tell anyway, but.

He really doesn’t want to make a promise with the intention of breaking it. Not because they’re werewolves and would most likely be able to either hear the lie in his heartbeat, or sniff it out, or  **something** , but because he’s trying to be a better person.

The fact that telling his dad might damage their relationship again, and irreparably this time, either because his dad realizes that this is what Stiles has been lying about or because he will think he’s on drugs or mentally ill? Yeah.

Totally doesn’t factor in. At all. And  _does werewolves know when you’re lying to yourself as well, even if you’re not doing it out loud?_ Damn it, it doesn’t look like promises will help.

Of course, his usual luck seems to be at work, and the Alpha doesn’t seem like he’s going to let Stiles go any longer. Whatever it is that had Quil interfering, that made them act so surprised? Is big. Most likely bad too. And that? Gives him exactly one ace to play, with no guarantee it’ll work.

“Look, I’m guessing you guys don’t like attention. And unless I get back soon? There will be **lots** of attention. Maybe even a manhunt. Because my dad? Love the man to pieces, but he’s prone to overreacting when it comes to me. Also, he’s a cop.”

There. Now, if he’s read them right they’ll let him go. If he’s wrong... Well, if he’s wrong then he doesn’t know he’d rather they leave enough of him to identify or not.

He doesn’t expect the relieved smile on the Alpha’s face though.

“He down there with Charlie Swan?”

He can just stare.  _Huh?_ The snicker coming from the volatile one reminds him to close his mouth, but it doesn’t help him not to feel stupid. Stiles does  **not** like feeling stupid. In his defense, though, it’s not like they’re giving him that much to work with.

_I wonder if that’s a wolf trait, an Alpha trait or just plain dumb bad luck?_

“Your father? You said he’s a cop, right? Is he here fishing, with some other policemen? With Forks’ chief of police, Charlie Swan, to be more precise?”

Oh. Okay. He can answer that – now that he knows what the question is.

“He’s here fishing, yes, and there are a bunch of other cops too. I don’t know about a Charlie Swan though. It rings a bell, but... Could be from this weekend, could be from any time during the last month. I didn’t pay that much attention to **names**.”

He hadn’t. He’d focused on the essentials, and names was not one of those. Who is trained in CPR, who is responsible for the food and who to let know what his dad needs to avoid,  **those** things he does know.

Something obviously clues them in on at least part of what he’s thinking, and  _great, I really need to get my guard back up again_ the snickering stops.

“Right. Chances are he is – there’s unlikely to be **two** fishing parties made up out of cops here at the same time. Here’s how we’ll do this. I’ll go down with you, as will Embry, and we’ll talk to Charlie. He’ll clue your dad in.”

“This guy a wolf?” It feels wrong, even if he can see the practical value in it – except for during the full moon – but. Maybe it’s the thought of Derek as an officer of the law, or worse: Peter.

He’d rather have Chris Argent in command, which is a very scary and very telling thing.

“No, he just... He’s in the know.”

“Okay. I get you coming, being an Alpha and everything, but why Embry? And which one is ‘Embry’ again?”

He’d have thought that the first guy he met, Quil the almost-puppy, would have been a natural choice, at least if they’re trying to keep him calm, making why an important question.  _Unless..._ And his stomach clenches.

Of course (because it’s his life, right?) the Alpha indicates Stare Wolf – and Stiles’s stomach plunges, because this cannot be good – and then hesitates. Something about the way he does so makes Stiles think it’s more about finding the right words than about not answering. Hint: he does  **not** find the right words.

“Does the word ‘imprint’ mean anything to you?”

It doesn’t, not really, except that he’s reminded of biology class and baby ducklings, and  **holy fuck, he’s talking about mates!** And just like that Stiles proceeds to have the mother of all panic attacks.


	4. Chapter 4

He has, of course, come across the concept of mates before. He’s a researcher, okay, and well. Scott and Allison. The way his best friend had acted towards the huntress had suggested that mates actually might be a thing – and once he’d gotten...“involved” with Derek he’d feared it.

So. He’d manipulated Scott into asking Derek about it. (Yes, it had been wrong to use his friend like that, but unlike asking himself it had also been  **safe** .) The brush-off from Derek had caused Scott to mope for two solid weeks, but had calmed Stiles a little. It hadn’t helped completely, no, but he’d still been able to breathe somewhat easier.

Of course, the more possessive Derek had become, the more Stiles had begun to fear that werewolves did, in fact, have mates, and Scott had just misunderstood. Or been lied to. Or that maybe there was a difference between born and bitten wolves, and he still wasn’t off the hook.

He’d worried enough to actually track down and corner  **Peter** , an experience that was better left in the past. Really. The way Peter had looked at him... Yeah. Not something Stiles had been eager to revisit anytime soon. Or, you know, ever.

Still. Both Hales had agreed: no on the werewolf mates. Except apparently that wasn’t true for  **these** particular wolves. Of course not. Because that might actually have meant Stiles catching a break.

Because “imprinting”? Sure sounds a hell of a lot like being mated,  **like Stiles being trapped** , and it freaks him the fuck out. Well, that and it makes him sick to his stomach.

“Fuck that. I’m not gonna be no werewolf bitch.”

It’s not the least bit diplomatic, and more than a little offensive he guesses, but. He. Doesn’t. Care. At all. The one thing that matters is that he not get forced into another “relationship” with a wolf. Or well, someone – anyone – who can treat him like Derek did.

He can sense the wolf in question, Embry, tense up by his side. (And no, he really doesn’t want to examine that statement any closer, or think about  **why** the wolf is tense, thank you very much.) He can also see something in the Alpha’s eyes, something like understanding and pity. Neither reaction gets to be dealt with though, seeing as the one whose name he doesn’t know, the one that has seemed on edge and angry since his arrival, attacks.

“What, you think you’re too good for him? Trying to pretend you’re straight? News flash, twink. It’s not like you’re going to–”

“ **Paul**.” Just one word, but that’s all that’s needed. It’s an Alpha order of some kind, Stiles is pretty sure, reminiscent of Derek roaring Isaac into submission at the sheriff’s station _and why the fuck does his mind keep going back to Derek because he doesn’t want to think about Derek doesn’t need to think about Derek doesn’t need to be reminded_ but different, in so many ways.

Stiles can hear the power in that one word, like he could with the roar, but there’s more. He can  **see** it. The tone vibrates, and creates an echo in the part of Stiles that created the mountain ash circle. Magic then.

Good to know. He should probably be freaking out again, but he’s not. Once again, he doesn’t want to think about why, and what it means, he’s just happy that he’s not. Not freaking out again means he might still be able to find a way out of this with his skin – and ass – intact.

What he  **is** , however, is going to correct some assumptions. Starting now.

“Look here, asshole. My sexuality, which is **none of your fucking business** by the way, has nothing to do with this. Neither has the fact that he’s a wolf, if your next move was going to be calling me a specieist. I just have no intention whatsoever of being his, or anyone else’s for that matter, bitch. End of story.”

“I’m my own person, I’m not fucking property and no amount of ‘mate’ bullshit is going to change that. I’m not going to let anyone control me. I’m not one of you – I don’t **want** to be one of you – nor do I belong to one of you, and I honestly don’t give a shit about what **he** ,” and he jerks his head in Embry’s direction, “wants or needs. Get it, furface?”

He refuses to acknowledge the hurt obvious on his supposed mate’s face. This isn’t about the other guy, or how he might feel. This is about the fact that Stiles suddenly feels as if he’s fighting for his life. And yeah, okay, it might also be about the fact that he never said any of this to Derek, never said any of the things he should have. Keeping quiet now seems almost impossible.

They all look shocked. Like  **they** are the ones who just got their lives hijacked. Stiles... Well, he’s not proud of it, definitely not, but he hates them more than a little for it. This is about  **him** , dammit. And if they make it about  **them** , makes it about their pack... Chances are they aren’t even going to try and help him then.

He feels too vulnerable, sitting down while they tower over him, but he doesn’t have the energy to stand. If it came down to it, if it meant life or death, then he’d (probably) be able to dig into his reserves and run for it, but. Unfortunately the prospect of becoming a werewolf’s bitch doesn't seem to qualify according to his body and mind. Not at the moment though. (Give him some time and it will. It has to.)

So he sits there, and finds himself wishing that Quil was still sitting next to him. Yes, he’d felt caged by the wolf’s presence, aware that any attempt to escape would be stopped in seconds, but he’d also been warm. Now he’s cold again, and that’s not doing any wonders for him. (Then again, what in this situation  **is** ?)

Sam’s face is stoic – Stiles suspects it’s his default expression – but his eyes are mild and a little worried. There’s compassion there, and Stiles hates it. It feels too much like pity, and like something that has nothing to do with him. Sam’s only caring because he thinks Stiles belongs to his pack mate. Right?

He can feel his features arranging themselves into the “get on with it” expression he used to have at least three times a day back when he also had  **Scott** at least three times a day, his body following along, and it’s only the fuck-ton of practice he’s gotten that keeps his mouth from joining in.

Doesn’t mean he’s not heard. Loud and clear.

Sam hears him, alright. Even almost smiles a little, just a hitch in the corner of his mouth, sure, but still. It’s a break in all the doom and gloom, and Stiles  **needs** that. Not as much as he needs to get out, but he’ll take what he can.

“I’m sorry to keep you out here any longer, but there are a few things I think we should discuss before we go back, things that might be easier to talk about without your father around.”

He doesn’t understand what – or why – because he thinks he’s been obvious about wanting to talk to his dad. Too obvious, and much too willing to  **spill** . So he keeps just looking at Sam, and waits.

“I’m sorry to push, but... The way you talk, the way you act? It screams abuse. Now, before we bring him in on this I just want to make sure–”

“You think my **dad** would hurt me? No. He’d kill for me, die for me, sure. Not hurt me. Never that.”

At least, he admits to himself, never physically. There has been a number of instances over the years with emotional hurt – but then that goes both ways. It also has to do with his mom, and the way they both miss her like crazy, and a little with his dad’s job. Whatever, it’s not what Sam’s looking for though.

“Good. Then...”

“Look. I’ve had my share of bad experiences, okay? That doesn’t equal abuse.”

Because it doesn’t. He knows how jumpy he is, knows how easily triggered he is when it comes to werewolves, but that doesn’t make Sam’s assumptions correct. Most of his werewolf issues are related to Peter, or the Alpha pack, and none of that was abuse. It was terror, and mortal peril, and fear of being bitten against his will, but not abuse.

And he really, really doesn’t want to think of what happened between him and Derek as that either. Not when he was halfway in love with the sourly Alpha long before he ended up in his bed, and not when he never said no. (The fact that he was never sure if he  **could** say no is also something he doesn’t want to think about. And that still doesn’t make it abuse, just a poorly negotiated deal.  **Really** poorly negotiated.)

Derek was a shitty Alpha, and tended to be a rough lover. But. Stiles still can’t see him as abusive. He had never gone out of his way to seriously damage or harm Stiles, had in fact done the opposite on more than one occasion. Every mark on Stiles’s body had come either from Derek trying to make a point, or teach him a lesson, or from the wolf forgetting exactly how much more fragile than him Stiles was. And that? That wasn’t exactly a Derek exclusive – all of the wolves did that, at times, even Scott. And unlike Scott Derek had never tried to kill him, so...

With a few exceptions being with Derek had been less damaging than playing lacrosse with a still human Jackson.

(And no, he isn’t defending the Alpha, he’s just...being selectively honest, maybe. Still doesn’t make him a victim of abuse.)

“Look, it’s great that you care, but I’m not an abuse victim, okay. All kinds of shit tends to happen when you’re a human running with wolves. So, what is it that we need to talk about before I’m allowed to get out of this damned forest?”

“Okay. First of all, imprinting. You’re right, it’s about mates. It’s supposed to be rare – yet out of us here? When we walked into this clearing Embry was the only one not to have imprinted.” Okay, that makes their shock a little more acceptable then. But.

“Also, it’s meant to be a gift to the wolf from the spirits,” and wow, he really sounds like he means that. Stiles isn’t used to people being religious, or spiritual, with the exception of the odd wannabe witch. (Which doesn’t really count, okay.) Sam’s talk about spirits...is unsettling, honestly, mostly because of how ill equipped Stiles is to deal with it. “It is supposed to be about finding your perfect mate, your second half. And this is where the problem lies. Embry isn’t gay.” And yeah, there it is.

“Yeah, well, you’d be surprised at how many guys say that just to avoid the shit storm, only to sing a different tune in private.” Really. If he’d gotten a dollar for every supposedly straight guy who’s approached him – or Danny back when in Beacon Hills – for a little “something something” while not wanting anyone to know? Screw worrying about scholarships, that’s how many. “Plus, with how your Second just reacted, that statement seems more than a little hypocritical, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You don’t understand. You **can’t** understand. I’m sure you’re right, in principle, but not here. When I say Embry isn’t gay, I’m not just parroting some line he’s fed me, or some prejudice. It’s because I **know** he isn’t.”

“That would be a ‘yes’ on the hive mind then,” Stiles comments, more to himself than to the wolves. They pick it up anyway, naturally, because he’s gotten out of the habit to watch out for supernatural hearing. And yes, Sneer Wolf growls. And sneers. Of course.

“We call it a pack mind, but essentially you’re right. I’m guessing you understand the implications of that? Then you should understand when I say that I’ve seen what’s inside Embry, I know his thoughts and his feelings as well as he does on some accounts, and he’s never been attracted to a man.

“For him to imprint on you, under those circumstances, is...unsettling. I would not have thought it possible.”

And this shit just keeps getting better. Not only does Stiles now have a 6-feet-huge werewolf – a wolf who has not just one but  **two** packs backing him up about it – thinking Stiles is his mate, but he’s gotten one that doesn’t even like guys. Meaning chances are he’ll be pissed about it and looking to take it out on someone. On  **Stiles** , because that’s how it works, isn’t it?

Yeah, he’d definitely say it’s “unsettling”. That’s a very good description of the situation. Of course, Stiles would probably go a little further than that, but with how he doesn’t have that much energy to spare at the moment, he’ll take it.

He tries to not think of Derek and what happened between them these days, tries really hard – he wants peace, okay, in every sense of the word – but once upon a time he did. He spent hours on trying to understand the wolf, in an attempt to figure out as much as he could about Derek’s issues – just one of the many ways he’d tried to make their arrangement as easy as possible on himself. And yes, okay, it was also because he had feeling for the sourly Alpha.

He never did understand why Derek did most of the things he had – still doesn’t – but he’d managed to formulate a couple of theories. One of them had been that Derek was pissed about wanting to have sex with a guy. That he’d punished  **Stiles** for that want, as if it had somehow been his fault that Derek was having those urges.

It was a valid theory back then, and unfortunately now it’s looking like a valid theory for how his life’s going to look like in the future. Because honestly? Stiles can protest all he wants to, and will, but he’s realistic enough to know that  **his** wants will play a very little role in what comes.

He pales, and feels his body trying to make itself as small as possible. Trying to become a smaller target.

The guy is a werewolf. There are another three present, and at least one more – Quil and Embry’s Alpha – somewhere. And he doesn’t know how to fight them.

That leaves him with two options: running or  **taking** it. He doesn’t think he can take it, not again, but running... He doesn’t know how to explain to his dad that they need to leave, again, not without exposing werewolves and quite possibly have his dad try to kill someone. And then...then there’s the fact that if this wolf really do see Stiles as his mate, then he’s not going to give up. Unlike Derek he’ll hunt Stiles down – he still doesn’t fully believe he’s actually gotten away, doesn’t fully trust that Derek won’t just  **show up** one day, and he wasn’t Derek’s  **mate** – and it won’t be pretty.

His mind is racing, half-formed plans showing up and disappearing again just as quickly, and he needs something, anything.

Once more he’s reduced to the state of fear and panic that had him begging Derek for pack rights and protection – that landed him on his knees. He doesn’t want to end up that way again. He won’t crawl. Won’t give up himself and his body again.

He’ll beg though. It might not help, but he’s willing to try.

“Please...”

Hearing how weak he sounds (it’s only the fact that the others are werewolves that makes his shaky voice reach their ears) Stiles thinks there’s no way they’ll listen to him. Why would they? It’s survival of the fittest, and Stiles is  **weak** , pack-less. Omega.

“Please? Please what? Please help you? Why?”

“You clearly don’t want to accept Embry – and that means **torturing** him. You talk about not wanting to get involved, and yet you’ve obviously **been** involved. ‘Runs with wolves’, you said. So why should we believe a single word that comes out of your mouth? Why should we help you? Why should we trust someone who claims to have **killed** one of our kind, and sounds more than willing to do it again?”

It’s the angry one, Paul?, again and this time Sam doesn’t interfere. (Embry tenses though, as does Quil – who’s also got a hand on his pack mate, ready to hold him back.) Stiles guesses that he understands it – they all have to be worried about it, he knows he would. Doesn’ t mean he’s going to let it slide without defending himself. He’s not got much energy, but he’s got enough for this. He  **has to** have enough for it.

“First of all, yeah, I’ve killed a werewolf. Well, one and a half, I guess,” because he was definitely involved enough in Peter’s death for that. “And I’d do the same again, in those circumstances. I was protecting myself, and the people I love, which you should understand, right? Seeing as you claim to be ‘Protectors’.

“Second, if it was up to me I’d still be blissfully ignorant. You think I **wanted** to get caught up in the supernatural bullshit? Newsflash, asshole: you just can’t always get what you want.

“When your best friend gets bitten by the local psycho and turns into a furry CGI monster you set those wishes aside, and you step up and **you** **deal**. You make sure he survives. You make sure that **everyone else** survives – that he gains enough control to not kill anyone.

“You do that, because he’s your **brother** in every way that matters, and it doesn’t matter if it lands you in detention, or if your grades slip, or if you get beaten up. You just deal.

“And if **you** don’t possess the basic humanity needed to **get** that, then I pity you.”

He’s said too much again, his filter completely shot to hell. Though it does seem as if he’s managed to shut Sneer Wolf up, at least for now.

He’ll count that as a win, that is, he will once he actually has the energy to care.

Right now though? His Adderall really  **is** wearing off, he’s tired, cold and hungry, and his lack of a filter is the last of his concerns. Everything that’s happened is getting to him, and he’s about to crash. Hard.

The log he’s sitting on shifts and creaks as two huge bodies sit down next to him. Not too close, their bodies doesn’t touch his, but enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from them. Oh. He soaks it up, revels in it, and can feel his brain getting back towards the right track again.

His focus improves too, second by second, and he begins to feel human again. Maybe it’s the warmth.  _Or maybe it’s because his imprint, his wolf, is sitting so close._ The reason doesn’t matter, not now at least, just the result.

“So what now?”

He doesn’t want a werewolf mate, but he seems to have one anyway – and his body seems to be more accepting of that fact than his mind or his heart. He can deal, at least until he’s gotten some food and meds into his  _body, because he has to, okay, he just has to_ but only if he knows exactly what he’s dealing with.

(And if he’s also going to need that information to try and find a way out of this? Well, that’s his secret, isn’t it?)

“Well–”

“Sorry, Sam. I just... Look,” and the wolf _Embry_ turn towards him and gives him a small smile and honest eyes, “I understand that this has to be confusing and difficult for you, but do you think you could trust us, trust **me** a little? Just enough to maybe tell me your name?”

And yeah, he still hasn’t done that, has he? Every reason for not telling them feels so distant now – after all, they can find him without it now that they know how to find his dad. Plus, by now they  **have** to have his scent memorized. That is, unless they’re all morons.

“I’m Stiles.”

“Hi Stiles. I’m Embry, as you might have picked up, and I’m a werewolf.”

_Going for humor. Under different circumstances I could...approve of that._

“This feels really weird for me. For you too, huh? Well, maybe you’ll feel a little better once I explain all this imprinting business a little more. But first off, you need to know that none of us will hurt you. I **promise** I won’t hurt you, and the others won’t either. I would never let them – and neither would the part that makes them pack.”

Except how not all of them were, at least not the same one, but maybe that didn’t matter.

“But. If I was you I’d be looking at Paul now, looking at how he’s been acting, thinking ‘that guy’s full of it’ and if you do, I get that. The thing about Paul though? He likes to come off as this Big Bad Wolf, and yeah, he’s a hothead, always has been. Seriously. He used to explode with anger – literally – on a daily basis. Ruined more clothes than any three of us put together. He still has a mouth on him, and a temper, but he’s changed.”

“The thing most people don’t see though, for obvious reasons, is how loyal he is to the pack. To the tribe, really. And when he comes home? He sheaths the claws, puts the wolf away, and becomes...well, not a lapdog, I guess,” and Stiles cracks a small smile at the though of the sneering, violent wolf as a little chihuahua (he imagines him complete with pink bow and all) and Embry shares it with him while someone growls in the background, “but domesticated at least.”

“You know why? It’s because of Rachel, his imprint. She wouldn’t have him any other way, and that meant he practically **had** to change. Being what the imprint needs is the most important thing in the world to the wolf, and the human, and if that means changing, then we change. It’s that easy.”

Stiles is willing to bet it’s really not that easy, not when push comes to shove (for Paul to be even close to tame must have taken an almost Herculean effort) but he gets the picture. He still has questions though, and for some reason he feels comfortable asking them of Embry.

”So he what? Ran into some girl, and bam, instantly fell in love and next thing you know they were living together?”

“Not exactly. He imprinted at once, yes – that’s how it happens. The first time we look into their eyes, after phasing. It wasn’t smooth sailing though. She didn’t like his attitude, as I said, and he worked hard to become the kind of man she’d accept. It took time, but now they’re married and happy.

“It was sort of the same for Sam, while for Jared – who’s not here – it happened a little more like you described it, except for how they wouldn’t live together at 16.”

Which yeah, made sense. And with  **Stiles** just being 17, it also felt a little reassuring. As in, he might be forced to accept a werewolf mate, but at least the wolf wouldn’t try and force him to shack up at once. The fact that Embry spoke of the imprint’s happiness as something very important also calmed him – maybe he’d actually get a say in things after all.

“Quil however, for him imprinting worked a little differently. Now, I’m going to ask you to not be judgmental, okay? Because while what I’m about to tell you might sound bad, it’s not. It’s not ideal, but it’s not bad.

“Quil’s imprint is Claire, and she’s the sweetest little thing. He first saw her almost seven years ago, and she’s had him wrapped around her finger ever since. They’re not a couple though – and this is why I asked you to keep an open mind. It’s because Claire is only eight.”

Stiles can’t help it. He’s the son of a cop okay, and has had more lectures on what’s right and wrong and legal than most people four times his age. Words like pedophilia and grooming run through his head before he manages to suppress them – but he does, and he thinks he might even have succeeded to keep those thoughts off his face. Of course, he’s judging Quil – or their spirits, maybe – but he’s smart enough to know what he can and cannot do.

They have a cop in the know, though, and that means that unless the guy’s a rotten apple he’ll put a stop to anything too fucked up. And if he is? Then John Stilinski will find out and take him down – and then  **he** will put a stop to it. One way or another. And Stiles will help him.

So he just nods and waits for Embry to go on.

“I’m not saying he’s not going to feel that way about her in ten years, but today? When Quil looks at Claire he doesn’t see a ‘mate’, a future wife. He sees someone he loves, sure, but it’s more like a big brother. And just as with the others that’s because it’s what **she** needs.

“I wouldn’t put this on you so soon, but there’s a good reason. I can tell how much you don’t want this, don’t want a mate, and I understand. I do. None of **us** wanted to imprint. None of us wanted to deal with what that meant. And I get that it’s worse for you. But, unlike me you can walk away. If you decide that you want nothing to do with me, then I have to accept that. It’d be hard, but I’d try – because it would make you happy.

“I promise you. If you want to walk away no one will stop you,” and the words are obviously meant just as much for the others, as Embry turns his head slightly to meet their eyes.

“But. I’m hoping you won’t. You don’t want to be a ‘werewolf’s bitch’ and you’ll never have to be. Sam told you I’m not attracted to guys, and that’s true. I don’t see you that way. I don’t understand how this happened, or why, but when I look at you? I see what Quil sees when he looks at Claire. I see a brother.

“Neither of us wants a mate. But I have a feeling we could both use another friend. You spoke of your best friend, your almost-brother. I can’t be him. I can’t replace him. But... Maybe I could be someone like him?”

Huh. It sounds too good to be true, like everything he could ever have hoped for in this situation, and his first instinct is to call it a lie. But Embry looks so earnest, so hopeful, and Stiles can’t help but feel his heart clench. A big brother? That...that he could more than deal with.  **That** he could even grow to love. And so he takes that careful first step, praying that he’s not doing something irrevocably stupid.

“We could try?”

His voice is quiet, small, and he’s sure his hesitance is showing. Doesn’t matter. The smile it brings to Embry’s face is like looking at the sun, and it shines in his heart as well.

It feels like home.


	5. Chapter 5

They walk back to the fishing camp slowly – Stiles is pretty sure it’s for his benefit, and he’s not complaining. Embry looks like he’d sweep Stiles up for a piggy back ride or something if he thought even for a second he’d get away with it. (He so wouldn’t. Stiles would like to keep  **some** of his dignity, thank you very much . Maybe some other time though – he knows how Scott can run, and trying it out this way might be fun.)

Instead he walks on Stiles’s left side, just a little too close, while Quil does the same on his right.

Sam and Paul walk a few steps behind them, and jeez, this must look ridiculous. It feels like he’s got his own secret service detail – minus the snazzy suits and the ear pieces – and Stiles doesn’t know what to think.

This kind of protection could have come in handy at times, yeah, but now? His life since coming to Port Angeles has been disgustingly safe – he hasn’t led such a boring life in  **years** .

It’s obvious that Sam still has a lot of questions. It’s equally obvious that he’s deferring to Embry, who’s apparently decided that Stiles has had enough. Which he totally has. Answers can  **wait** , Embry says, and Jake –  **his** Alpha – can do this.

Great.

Stiles doesn’t protest, not any of it. He might be relatively okay with all of this, but he doesn’t know any of these wolves. And even if he’s beginning to feel as if he can trust Embry – which might or might not be an effect of the imprint and him accepting it – there’s still the fact that not all secrets are meant to be shared. Or are  **his** to share.

There’s also the fact that thanks to the pack mind telling Embry anything means telling  **all** of them, and that’s more than he’s comfortable with right now. Finally there’s the suspicion that some of the things Stiles has to share might send Embry into a rage, make him want to hunt down Derek and  **hurt** him.

Stiles is surprisingly un-okay with this. For all the reasons. And that means that whatever bad things he’s going to have to tell Embry needs to wait until either Stiles has enough of a handle on Embry and the imprint to know how to stop him, or this Jake is there to do it for him.

Or, you know, he could never mention them. He’s okay with never, ever talking about anything having to do with him and Derek outside of strictly pack-related things, where Derek is the Alpha and Stiles is Scott’s annoying human best friend.

Thinking of Derek is easier now than it has been, well, ever. That doesn’t mean much though, because it still hurts, still makes him confused, and it definitely doesn’t mean he wants to talk about it. All it means is that thoughts of Derek isn’t making Stiles feel like his soul’s been used for target practice, or as if he’s bordering on a panic attack. That’s all.

He suspects that this too is a side effect of the imprint, because that’s the only thing that’s changed, and grudgingly admits that he’s happy about it. The last thing Stiles needs is to feel like crap, and anything that keeps that away is a plus in his book. Even if it comes courtesy of a werewolf.

His dad’ll –

And oh. His dad. His  **cop** dad, who owns a large number of shotguns and–

“Embry? What’s the plan here? Because I don’t think I’m going to be much good for anything else today. And once my dad spots me... Let’s just say things could get ugly real fast.”

That’s the understatement of the year. Seriously. John Stilinski has always had a protective streak a mile wide, but since leaving Beacon Hills it’s tripled. At least. Coupled with the reasons Stiles gave for wanting to leave... Embry will probably look very suspect, and if he as much as  **breathes** a word about “mates” things won’t just get ugly – they’ll get bloody.

And if they do? Well, the chances of a bunch of cops not backing one of their own up for hurting a huge older guy who’d gone after said cop’s underage kid? Yeah right. As long as it stayed at just hurting, and nothing permanent, that’s not going to happen. Speaking of permanent...

“Uh... If my dad shoots you, you’ll heal, right?” And that’s probably not the right thing to say, judging from the looks he’s receiving, but he needs to be sure. He doesn’t **think** his dad will shoot Embry – for one, he shouldn’t have a gun with him on this trip – but Stiles is aware of exactly how little that “think” is worth. The whole mate and werewolf business makes things unpredictable.

The nod he receives calms him a little though.

“We’ll talk to Charlie Swan, fill him in, get some input. Then I guess it’d be best to talk to your dad tomorrow? If you want to, that is, because **no one** will bring your dad into this without your say so,” and there’s steel in Embry’s voice, “but I think it’d be easier. For everyone.”

“You shouldn’t have to lie about any of this,” and there’s something there, something not connected to Stiles, “and hopefully telling him everything will make him more receptive to you spending time with me, and with the pack.”

And oh, right, Embry’s going to want to spend time with him, is going to want to introduce Stiles to his pack and have them interact. He feels a frisson of fear go through him – because hanging out with a pack does not carry good memories – and almost allows himself to succumb to panic.

Then he pushes the thought down. Embry is  **not** Derek. In any way. His pack members are  **not** Isaac or Boyd or Danny or even Erica – even if she’d been gone by the time he’d “become pack”.

At least, Quil is not like any of them, though he guesses he’ll have to reserve judgment on the others – because while they might all be as easy going as Quil, they could just as easily be like Paul. And Paul, well. No matter what Embry’s said about him being a good guy he reminds Stiles of Jackson and Isaac in all the worst ways.

_At least I’m not expected to share a pack with him..._

“Stiles?”

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, just...caught up in” _bad_ “memories.”

“It’s fine, that happens. Are you okay with us talking to your dad?”

“Yeah. I haven’t told him any of this, about werewolves being real, or–” _Do not mention killing, just...don’t_ “Anything. I didn’t want him to get involved. But if you want to be able to get within five miles of me without him threatening to shoot you he’s got to know.”

And well, not lying  **would** feel good. He’d be able to let go of the last lies, the last secrets – or most of them anyway – and he  **needed** that.

“Okay, are you okay with us doing it tomorrow then? You’ll be rested, Charlie will have had some time to figure out what to say, plus, if we wait until tomorrow Jake can be here as well. Maybe his dad can come too – Billy’s an Elder, and in charge of the legends. I think having them here would do a lot to help calm down your dad.”

And that sounds great. Really. Stiles isn’t going to be talking, or thinking, his way out of a wet paper bag right then, and he  **knows** he’s going to have to be the one saving the day. Again. Of course, having a fellow cop backing him will help, but in the end it’ll be up to him.

Then again, isn’t it always?

The forest is quiet, more so than on his walk from the camp earlier, even with four huge guys surrounding him. They move like predators, silently (and maybe they feel like predators too, and that’s why the silence) and if he’s not looking at them he can pretend they’re not there. At least until Embry starts speaking.

“I realize you’re tired, and this is totally not the time to try and tell you everything you need to know about us, but there’s one thing I don’t believe can wait.”

And yeah, nothing good usually comes from words like that, does it? Still, maybe this time it’ll be different.

“You said, earlier, that your friend got bitten and turned, and that you didn’t want to be like us.”

Stiles stumbles to a stop, thanks to his body suddenly going rigid from fear, and starts thinking about running.  _Please don’t tell me you expect me to take the Bite, I was just beginning to think this wouldn’t be so bad, please don’t_ _–_

“Considering that, I thought you might like to know that that’s not an option.” _Huh? Wha–?_ “Something like what you described? Can’t happen here, with us.

“We call ourselves werewolves, but we’re not. The Quileute are shape-shifters, that just happens to take the form of a wolf. ‘Werewolf’ just was what was familiar, so to speak, for our generation. Blame pop culture, I guess.” Embry shrugs, and Stiles can’t help the small giggle that breaks free. That these wolves, with their apparent belief in spirits, are still influenced by pop culture? Hilarious. At least for a cold, tired, un-medicated Stiles.

“It’s not possible for us to change anyone else into a wolf – not that we would even if we could – only direct descendants of the first wolf can phase. It’s in our blood.”

And it’s a huge weight being lifted off of Stiles’s shoulders. There are a lot of benefits to being a werewolf, he’s not going to deny that, nor how many times he’s been pretty much green with envy. He just doesn’t want it.

Peter told him he was lying when he said that, and maybe in a way he was. Back then. Things are different now. He’s thought  **a lot** about it since, especially during the months that he was with Derek, and he **knows** his own heart completely now.

He wants to be human. Oh, he wants to be stronger, faster, better, sure – but he’s willing to work for it.

No instant teeth-induced upgrade for Stiles – because the pros doesn’t outweigh the cons.

Derek cured him of any lingering doubts when it came to that.

It probably says all kinds of things – most of them bad or wrong – about him that he didn’t come to that conclusion after Scott tried to kill him. Instead it took sleeping with Derek, watching him (try to) lead his pack while being part of it himself. Took wondering if Derek wanted to bite him, change him, and realizing what it would mean for him.

A human can walk away from a pack – he’s proven that. A wolf...can’t. Not in the same way. Theoretically they can become Omega, sure, but only if the Alpha is weak or allows them. If not... Well. The amount of control an Alpha has over his (or her) pack members will always be terrifying to someone like Stiles.

The thought of having Derek as his  **actual** Alpha, of Derek having that kind of control over him... It had been a huge part of why he’d ended up running. Derek had allowed Erica and Boyd to walk away that first time, but he’d been weak then. Weak, unsure of his power and reluctant to force any of his betas. Things had changed afterwards, after Scott he supposes, and the first thing Boyd had learned when returning to the fold was exactly how lenient Derek had been – and would never be again.

(Stiles sometimes suspects that Erica had known that, that it had been her reason for not returning with Boyd.)

With how possessive Derek had been concerning him, well. Stiles just doesn’t think there would have been any reason for Derek to turn him and then allow him his freedom.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts – they’re getting too dark – and sends Embry a smile that’s meant to be reassuring, but probably is anything but, and mumbles out an answer.

“That’s good. That’s really...good.”

Wow. Eloquence, your name is Stilinski. Or not.

No one comments on it though. Chances are they can tell how worried he’s been about turning into a werewolf – about  **being turned** against his will – and actually respect that. Or Embry’s sending them threatening looks. Either way, no one’s bugging him about it, and that’s all that matters.

 

By the time they reach the camp he’s more than a little spaced out. He’s reached the point where he doesn’t even try to register his thoughts any longer, because what few he’s paid attention to has been seriously disturbing, and oh, bed, please.

And yeah, there’s a bed, or a bunk, but it’s not his and he doesn’t get to lie down or sleep. Still, it’s a soft place to sit, and it’s warm inside the cabin. Embry sits next to him, also providing warmth, and with the cup of coffee he shouldn’t be drinking but still is Stiles is actually beginning to feel like an actual human being again.

Charlie Swan seems like a nice guy, a good cop, even if Stiles admits he’s not in the best shape to make judgment calls on  **anything** at the moment. He’s never been wrong about a cop though – it’s the one thing in his life where his instincts have never led him astray – and that means he relaxes a little. That chief Swan seems to be willing to take his side against the packs... That helps too.

He answers a few questions, dodges a couple more, and then just sits there and listens – okay, yeah, tries to, but fails spectacularly, because nothing they say make sense – while the chief and Sam try and come up with a strategy. Embry sits silent, mostly, and that further calms Stiles.

Because no matter what, so far Embry’s proven to be on his side (or is faking it really, really good) and to want what’s best for Stiles, even if it means defying an Alpha. To Stiles that means that if Embry’s silent then he approves of what’s being said.

The next thing he knows he wakes up in his assigned bunk, head resting on the pillow he brought from home and it’s light outside. He doesn’t remember anything after sitting in chief Swan’s cabin, but assumes he fell asleep and that Embry carried him here. It should be embarrassing, he assumes, but nah. Stiles is secure enough in himself to be carried when needed. And it was.

He can fall asleep pretty much anywhere, anyhow, when tired, but wake him up and he’s screwed. Won’t matter how short a nap he’s had, how beat he is, once he’s up then he’s  **up** . And that never ends well.

A quick check tells him he’s wearing most of his clothes – no shoes, no jacket – and he shudders. Teenage stereotypes aside, Stiles actually cares about hygiene. There’s water in a jug, as well as a washing bowl, and he is going to use that. Everything else can wait.

Once he’s clean, with fresh clothes and minty-fresh breath, he grabs some emergency rations (a home-made power bar and a banana out of his backpack), drinks some water and goes off in search of his dad (with a much-needed bathroom stop on the way).

John Stilinski is sitting by the fireplace with Embry and Charlie Swan – the man matches Stiles’ fuzzy memories at least – as well as two more men. One is older, sitting in a wheelchair, and the second is  **huge** . Like, making Embry look small huge. His money is on it being Embry’s Alpha, Jake, and his father/elder, whose name Stiles cannot for the life of him remember.

That’s not important right then though, because Stiles looks at his father’s back, and oh fuck. The way his dad holds himself, the lines of his body, the  **placement** ... Shit is going down. He starts walking faster, fighting the urge to run, because running attracts attention, and he does not want that, praying that the group can keep things from going completely to hell for just a little longer.

They were supposed to wait, weren’t supposed to do this without him, and why the hell does nobody listen and whose fucking idea was this anyway? His money is, again, on the Alpha, because  **Alpha** . “I’m the Alpha” was Derek’s go-to phrase, his explanation for everything, his  **entitlement** , and as far as Stiles has seen that’s pretty much par for course.

Looks like that part is still true even with these wolves.

“–now I don’t know who you think you are, or what you think your business is with Stiles, but that’s my son, my **underage** son–” and shit, he’s going there, and is that a **gun** on his dad’s lap?

“Look, sir, with all due respect, I get where you’re coming from,” Embry _please don’t let dad explode – or Embry, or well,_ _ **any**_ _of them – until I can fix this_ “but Stiles should really be a part of this conversation, so if we could just wait for him to join us. Please?”

“And that would be how long now? Does your so called bond with my son tell you that?” Oh, god. Someone has told him, and judging by his frequent use of the word ‘son’ John’s on edge, and _how do I fix this?_

“No, but my eyes does tell me, seeing as he’s just behind you.”

His dad turns around fast enough to cause whiplash, and  _yup, definitely a gun_ .

“Stiles.”

“Dad. Seriously, a gun? On a fishing trip? Do we need to have a talk about this?”

“Don’t you start with me. I’m still the parent here, remember?” Which yeah, okay, is technically true, except for how both Stilinskis know that on any given day it’s Stiles parenting John just as much as the other way around. “As for this, well, something told me it might come in handy. I’d say it’s proven to be justified. I’m looking at a what? 6’4, 25 or so guy who’s supposedly a werewolf thinking my son, my **underage** son, is his **mate**.”

And again with the “underage” as if Stiles was twelve or something. Jeez.

“Now, with what you’ve told me, can you understand why I’m feeling a little trigger happy?”

And yeah, he can. His dad is remembering a haunted-looking Stiles, telling him he was getting unwanted male attention and didn’t know how to stop it, and wants to protect him from that happening again. This is different though, in so many ways.

“I get it dad, I do. But this isn’t the same, okay? Embry says he doesn’t see me that way, and I believe him. Besides, if he’s lying about that? If he tries to force me into doing something I don’t want? I’m fully capable of shooting him myself – you’ve made sure of that, remember? – and I will.”

Not that the shooting range hadn’t been a good father-son bonding exercise, but Stiles has always known it was less about that and more about him being able to protect himself. His dad recognizes his point, albeit reluctantly, and tries a new angle of attack.

“Besides, wow, way to make me sound like a little kid, dad. We both know I’m a functional adult, and that I’ll be one legally soon as well.”

“But **werewolves** , Stiles? Really? And you’ve been keeping this from me for what? A year and a half now?”

Stiles winces. His dad didn’t get elected sheriff for almost a decade straight based on his good looks, or because of pity votes. No. John Stilinski is a good cop, in every sense of the word, and most days it makes Stiles damn proud. It  **does** make it difficult being a teenager with secrets though.

“Dad– I... I’m sorry. But you know as well as I – because you were the one to teach me this – that knowing a secret doesn’t automatically mean it’s yours to share. I don’t want to keep things from you, and I definitely don’t want to lie, but that? That isn’t my story to tell. It never was.”

His dad doesn’t say anything, just nods with a look of frustrated pride on his face. Unfortunately for Stiles (and maybe a few others, no names mentioned) that is soon replaced by the “pieces falling into place” look.

Great. His dad is  **scary** sometimes. He wishes he’d inherited that.

“As for this, though,” he gestures between himself and Embry, “I was not going to hide this. I just wanted to, you know, actually be conscious for that particular talk, and I so wasn’t yesterday. We agreed to table it until today for that reason, and because Embry thought these three might actually help.”

_Speaking of which..._ He spins around and glares. Just a little, but. Glares.

“And exactly **why** were you having this conversation without me?” He directs his question to Embry, acting as the two of them, and his dad, are the only ones present. Oh, he’s pretty sure it’s not Embry’s fault – as previously stated: Alpha – but Embry is the one that promised him this wouldn’t happen, as well as the one Stiles (tentatively) trusts.

“I–” Embry doesn’t get any further before his Alpha buts in.

“I felt it was better to do this as quickly as possible. You were still asleep–”

“–and it would have taken like a minute to wake me up, just saying.”

“You were still asleep, we were reluctant to wake you up, and I thought I would give your father the facts, smooth the way for when you joined us.”

Sounds good – too bad Stiles is an expert at smelling out bullshit even with his human nose. As is his father.

“Yeah, how about no?” Again he’s met by that incredulous stare. Alphas **really** don’t like being told no, or that they’re wrong. Sucks to be him then, because Stiles is not going to let this one slide. He’s not pack. No matter what he and Embry might have – might come to have – Stiles is not pack, and does not cater to some puffed-up Alpha’s sense of entitlement. He calls things like he sees them.

“Let me guess. You’re Jake. And that,” he nods towards the man in the wheelchair, “is your father? Keeper of the legends? Yeah, sorry, but you don’t get a say in this. Your dad knew, didn’t he, probably even before you did. You’ve never had to hide anything, never had to lie, never had to worry about if telling him means getting yourself – **and him** – into a world of trouble. You got off easy.

“My dad? Didn’t know anything. It was supposed to be **my** call what to tell him, when to tell him, and how much. Not to mention **I** should have been the one. You? You shouldn’t even have been a blip on the radar.”

He sees something in Embry’s face, something he can only label as satisfaction, reminding him of how Embry had insisted yesterday that it  **would** be his call, and  _yeah, definitely history there_ , and makes a mental note of it for later.

“Now, how much exactly did you fuck things up for me?”

Seeing a guy that size looking small and ashamed, well, it does things to Stiles. And by “does things” he means it makes him feel good. Really good. He can be more than a little vindictive, and he knows it. His moral compass is...a little skewed, so to speak, which is one of the reasons Scott has always been so important to him. He needs someone to keep him from going off the rails.

Oh, Stiles isn’t evil, he’s just not the “good guy” and never will be. He’s too ready to make the hard choices, the expedient ones (like killing Jackson) and too okay with living with what he’s done.

“Forget it, you’re absolutely no use to me. Embry?”

“He told him about the pack, about the imprint and about you having some sort of prior knowledge. That’s about as far as he got before your dad pulled his gun on us.”

Okay. He can work with this.

“Okay, so you and I, and Embry, should sit down and talk about this. In private.” He gives Jake the stink eye, Alpha or not, the guy is on his list. “Just, first, chief Swan, Mr... I’m sorry, I’m sure Embry mentioned your name, but I can’t remember it.”

“Billy Black.”

“–Mr Black, anything the two of you feel the need to share? Otherwise maybe you could agree to be available to my dad when he gets around to wanting more detailed answers?”

Because he knows that’s going to happen. It  **always** happens. And on the plus side, well. His dad could use more friends, even if he  **is** doing better, and him having someone like chief Swan to talk to might become Stiles’ saving grace here.

And yeah, so what if he ignores the Alpha? He’s learned quite a few lessons since his first exposure to werewolves, and one of the more important ones has been to not let Alphas run the show if you could avoid it. He can, as he’s not a wolf or has actually agreed to be pack, and he’s going to take advantage.

Knowing his dad will not hesitate to shoot just makes it easier.

“There are a lot of things we should talk about, that you should know, but they can wait. It is customary to hold a bonfire for a new wolf or imprint, where the Elders will tell the legends. I hope you will consider letting us hold one for you? There’s no need to decide quite yet, but please, think it over. Your father will, of course, also be welcome.

“As for what has happened here, you have my apologies. You are absolutely right, my son has never really had to face the same difficulties as you. He **has** had other problems though, and he really does want to do what’s best for every member of the pack.”

Stiles can’t help but be surprised – he hadn’t expected the apology. Oh, he appreciates it, a lot, it just comes completely out of the blue. The Alpha, however, is not as pleased, judging from the low growl leaving him.

“Shhh. Jacob, you have only yourself to blame here. You overstepped, and mishandled the situation, and you know it. Admit it, remember it and do better next time.”

Oh, he likes this. Mr Black might not be such a bad guy, and if he’s still helping his son learn... Well, this Alpha just might be salvageable after all.

“Mr Stilinski, please feel free to contact me if you have any questions. I’m listed, or you can get my number from Charlie.

“Jacob, it’s time we leave.”

The huge man nods, clearly willing to let his father run things for now, and steps up to push the chair. First though Stiles has one more question for them.

“Mr Black? Embry said last night that it’s not possible for these wolves to change someone. Was he telling the truth?”

It’s not that he thinks Embry lied, it’s just that trusting is  **hard** these days. Also, his dad needs to hear this, he thinks, before sitting down with Embry. The thought of Stiles potentially becoming a werewolf might not have entered John’s head yet, but it will soon. It’s better to head it off now.

“Yes, he was. The Quileute wolves are all direct descendants of Taha Aki. There are a few more conditions involved in phasing, but basically it comes down to a blood line – and you are not a part of it.”

He watches Billy Black say his goodbyes to his dad and chief Swan – they’re clearly on good terms, making Stiles trust the man a little more – and keeps watching as the Blacks leave. It’s not until they’re out of his sight that he relaxes, and sits down next to Embry, knees suddenly weak.

It’s time for the talk he’s never ever wanted to have with his dad.

He would rather go into battle.


	6. Chapter 6

The absence of the Alpha feels like a blessing, and makes Stiles relaxes a little. Not much, because there’s still that talk with his dad waiting. At the moment John’s talking quietly with Chief Swan though, and Stiles uses the time to clear his mind of residual anger.

“He’s not a bad guy, really.”

Stiles turns his head and gives Embry a “bullshit” look.

“I get why you would see it differently, I do, but I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s been my pack mate and Alpha for years, and I’m telling you, he’s usually better than this.”

“I guess he’d have to be, or you guys would have defected a long time ago. After all, you do have another Alpha on hand.”

And just like that there’s a tick in Embry’s jaw, another clue that there is so much history here that Stiles doesn’t know, and he’s going to have to, won’t he, if he wants to not fuck this up.

“You know, one of these days you’re going to have to tell me the whole story here. Because I’m beginning to feel like every other sentence is triggering something, and I get it, there has to be a lot of history to all of this, but I can’t go in blind. I can’t.”

Embry just nods, clearly understanding and agreeing, and that’s a relief.

“We’ll talk, soon. I promise. And you’ll see that Jake isn’t so bad. There’s a lot on his shoulders, and right now he’s under even more pressure that usual. There are some...issues surrounding his imprint, Nessie, and whenever that is up for debate again he gets tense. Add the fact that she’s away at the moment with her family, and you’ve got a less than perfect situation. It’s taking its toll on him – and it’s making him a lot more short-tempered than usual.”

That... Okay, that sounds reasonable. It also sounds like a reason to worry. If Jake is acting out because he’s separated from his imprint, then what will that mean for Stiles? Because he and Embry  **will** be separated, more often than not, seeing as a/ they’re not together and won’t be and b/ Stiles lives in Port Angeles and Embry...does not. And that reminds him–

“Where do you live? I mean, I’m guessing that it’s somewhere close to this Forks place, with how you talked about Chief Swan, but you never told me.”

“Oh. La Push, the Quileute reservation just outside of Forks – we all live there.”

“So, you said your Alpha’s behavior is because he’s not with his imprint, at least partly. What does that mean for you? Are you going to go all crazy as well?”

Because if there’s the slightest hint of that? Then Stiles will not just  **let** his dad shoot Embry, he’ll help – and not just by finding out the best way to make it fatal. He might have started to like Embry, but he’s not going to subject himself to another crazy possessive werewolf. No way.

“I think it will be different for us. Nessie... Like I said, issues. She’s a special case, and there are things making it impossible for Jake to be with her at times. When that goes on for too long, like now, when she’s been gone for three weeks, that’s when he goes weird. And he feels differently about her than I do about you.

“Now, I know I’m not going to see you every day – I’m not even going to try and argue for that – but I’m hoping you’ll be okay with me coming down at least once a week? Maybe you coming up to La Push some weekends? Your dad would like the fishing there, I think, and Billy and Charlie would like the company.”

That sounds reasonable, doable, and he nods. As long as no one gives his dad alcohol, or tries to push Stiles, then he’s okay with that.

“Just, none of that Alpha crap, okay?

“You really don’t like Alphas, do you?”

“It’s not about not liking them, it’s about not liking the Alpha attitude. I mean, not to dis your friends here, but every single Alpha I’ve met have had the same asshole attitude, the same power drunk belief that they know best. And I’ve had it with that. I’m done being pushed around, and told what I can and cannot do, and being treated as if what I want and know isn’t important because I’m ‘just’ human.”

“That’s...fair, I guess. Except for how all of us is going to want to keep you out of harm’s way. Not to push you around, or because we think you’re less than us, but because we really do exist to protect. You’re a lot more breakable than I am, and that means I am going to get between you and danger. That’s just how it is, okay?

“Anyway, how bad is it going to be? Your age.”

“I’m a junior.” And he watches Embry carefully, determined to pick up any and all clues, and sees him wince. Knowing fully well that age of consent (not that they’re going to do anything where that matters, because they are **not** going there) is 16 in Washington makes him believe that the stricken, worried look is more about him being a minor. Unless he’s mistaken Embry is going to need to see him on a regular basis, and being a minor means his dad could put a stop to that. Good thing he really was telling the truth about practically being a legal adult.

“I turn 18 soon though, and by ‘soon’ I mean next Monday. So there’s no need for you to panic on that account.” And by ‘panic’ he means trying to kidnap Stiles, or something equally stupid.

Because yeah, he’s been panicking all on his own, over turning 18. It’s rooted in his not-so-deeply buried fear that Derek will show up, that Derek knows where he is and has known all along, that he’s only waiting for Stiles to be legal before coming to take him away. Try, at least, because that? Is pretty much the number one reason why Stiles still carries wolf’s-bane, and why there are a few...extras hidden in his room.

“Oh. You started school late?” A reasonable assumption, but no.

“I– When I was in third grade my mom died. I was...pretty messed up, and then I started getting panic attacks. My teachers had already been bugging my parents about having me repeat the year, so dad pulled me out. Had me spend my days studying at the station, or with a tutor. I did better that way.”

Much better actually, even with his disadvantages. Part of it had been, of course, seeing his dad, knowing that his only remaining family was close.

“Then the councilor I was seeing because of the panic attacks noticed what the problem really was, and made sure I got proper help. Turns out I have an attention disorder, and that’s why I never could focus on what the teachers were saying, or homework. With meds and coping techniques though? Suddenly I could actually focus on learning for the first time since starting school. It was amazing.”

He’d gone from feeling stupid to realizing he was actually pretty smart over the course of a month, which had helped immensely. It hadn’t helped with the grief, no, but it had helped with the feeling of being so worthless he should have died instead.

“They still held you back though?”

“Yeah. Dad wasn’t going to let them, he was all ready to go on the warpath, and then Scott and his mom moved to town. We met that day, and that was it. Inseparable. Dad figured that having an actual friend was more important than graduating with my year, and that was the right call. I’ve never wished for things to be different.” _Not on that account at least._

“Stiles!”

He turns, startled out of his thoughts, flailing a little, and looks over at his dad. Chief Swan is walking away, and that means it’s time to try and calm his father down. He swallows, and summons the courage that has taken him through battles before. This should be easier, right?

“Coming, dad.”

 

The cabin is empty, and Stiles slumps down on the bed, back against the wall to keep him up. Forget what he thought earlier, forget kanimas and Alphas and torture-happy grandfathers. This is the worst battle of his life, and it hasn’t even started yet. The way his dad looks at him is completely unreadable, and makes Stiles squirm where he sits. The look leveled at Embry when he sits next to Stiles though, that one’s positively murderous. Not good.

The silence drags on, until he’s ready to start babbling, about anything, just to break it.

“Werewolves, Stiles?” His dad has **that** face, and Stiles squirms again. There’s a reason he never told, okay? Or well, there are several, but this was always number one. The fear of disappointing his dad, of ruining their relationship further.

“I’m assuming you kept it from me to protect me? And Scott? Oh, close your mouth,” he does, he didn’t even notice it was open, “it’s not like you’re that hard to figure out. So who else than Scott? Let’s see–”

“Dad. Don’t. Please. I can’t tell you – it’s not my place to tell **anyone** – and I don’t want to lie to you. So just, please, please, don’t ask me any questions I can’t answer.”

An assessing look is followed by a nod, and he relaxes just a little. This...will help. Not much, but at least some, and he’s willing to grab at any straw right now.

“Fine. I won’t ask you. Doesn’t mean I won’t be figuring it out on my own though.”

“I never expected anything else, dad,” because he hadn’t, “just... Thanks for not making me betray anyone’s confidence.”

“Moving on then. First things first, if the need arises,” and _way to be subtle, dad_ , “how do I kill a werewolf? I’m guessing that beheading, or any kind of cutting them in two, will work, but besides that?”

And oh, he’s pretty sure that was meant to be just as blunt as it is, an unsubtle way to inform Stiles that no matter what he confirms or denies John Stilinski has already figured out that Laura Hale was a werewolf. Damn his dad is good.

“It depends on what kind of wolf, dad. Helpful, I know,” he shrugs, “but that’s the way it seems to be.”

“And if I shoot him,” John nods to Embry, “I’m guessing he’ll heal?”

“Yeah, but dad, he hasn’t done anything to get shot for. Seriously. So far the only thing Embry has done is have some spirits tell him he’s my big brother from another mother. Kinda like Scott, except native?” he tries, hoping his dad’s soft spot for Scott will help out.

It earns him a stern look.

“Head shot?”

“I... Yeah, okay, dad? As far as I know you can kill a werewolf with a bullet to the brain, or straight through the heart, but you are **not** going to be experimenting. No way.”

Because that? Would just be cruel. Oh, if something actually happens, then Stiles’ll sing another song, one accompanied by his own gun, thank you, but just because of this? No. Oh, he’ll be doing some experimentation of his own, just to find out if mountain ash and wolf’s-bane effects Embry or his pack mates at all (he’s all for voluntelling Paul he’s it, but, yeah) but that’s just to be safe. For all of them to be safe. After all, if wolf’s-bane works, then he needs to wolf-proof some parts of his life a little, just so Embry won’t kill himself visiting.

“Sir? I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise that if I hurt Stiles you’ve got a free pass at finding out exactly how to kill me. The packs won’t interfere. Protecting an imprint is embedded so deep in our makeup that just the thought hurts. The others would attack me themselves in order to protect him.”

John Stilinski nods, obviously happy with what he’s hearing – even though it’s equally obvious he’s not ready to trust Embry quite yet, and will take that free pass if he feels it necessary. Stiles just...loves his dad for it. Embry could turn him into mince meat without even thinking about it, and his dad’s still going up against him without fear or hesitation.

(That should probably serve as a cause for concern for all three of them, but hey, it’s not like they’re living in that reality any longer, now is it. As for Stiles, yeah, as if. He came by his lack of ‘normal’ reaction to all this legit, okay, by inheriting it.)

“I want to apologize for Jake’s behavior. His approach was wrong, and not what Stiles and I had agreed on. However, in his defense, he’s having a lot to deal with now, and he wasn’t that happy about having to leave the rez. And even though it might not seem like it he **is** a good Alpha.”

“Alpha? Is that your way of saying he’s in charge? Like with actual wolves?”

“Yes. Jake runs our pack – I’m his Third. To be honest, he inherited it, so to speak. The respect he gets from the pack has nothing to do with his blood though, or who his ancestors were, it’s all on him.

“When we first phase... We don’t just wake up one day and turn into a wolf. It’s a process that can take months, where we change both mentally and physically, that culminates with the phase. For me, I grew three inches in two months, and packed on over 30 pounds of muscle. My personality changed even more; I was short-tempered, on edge all the time – once I blew up at my mom because we ran out of milk. I was cutting classes, my grades were dropping, I was breaking curfew and sneaking out. I cut all ties with my best friends and started running with a new crew.

“It was costing me my mom. I literally couldn’t tell her what was going on, and for someone not in the know about that little genetic surprise, well. You’re a police officer, sir, and a parent, you tell me what you’d think.”

‘Steroids’ is what John would think, Stiles knows, and what he **did** worry about when Scott started changing. The answer is clear in both their faces, and Embry just nods.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what my mom thought too. There were rumors we were both doing and selling drugs, and for someone who’s already at a disadvantage – my mom’s not Quileute,” he adds, predicting the question, “it was hard.”

Stiles can relate, because he’s been there. He knows exactly how it feels to have your parent think you’re doing something awful when in reality you’re just trying to protect people, and that insight makes him connect a little more to Embry.

His dad makes that same realization, he can tell, and it softens him a little. Not much, but at the moment every bit of progress needs to be savored. After all, even the longest journeys start with one single step, don’t they? This is John Stilinski’s first step.

“Jake saw how much it was costing those of us whose parents weren’t on the council, how much it was costing **me** to keep the secret. When he became Alpha, one of the first things he did was to lift the ban on telling. It wasn’t easy, but he refused to budge. He fought the Elders for it – shamed his dad into agreeing. We still can’t tell everyone, but our parents? They all know now.

“The same goes for the imprints’ families. Five years ago you wouldn’t have been told. Stiles would have been forbidden to tell you. He still could have, because there’s nothing the Alpha or the Elders can do to him, but I would have been punished for it. And if you’d approached me, or say Billy? You would have been fed lies. I would have been ordered to lie to you, and no, I couldn’t have gone against that order. There would have been suggestions that maybe the drugs Stiles is taking – the ones we can smell on him – was causing him to imagine things. It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

No, he can’t imagine it would have been. In fact, all he needs to do is imagine telling his dad something like this six months ago, and he can feel his body begin to shake. ‘Not pretty’ doesn’t begin to describe the utter cluster fuck it would have been, and yeah, right there, like on demand, are the first signs of a panic attack.

“Stiles? Your heartbeat... Are you okay?”

“Are you having a panic attack?”

He’s worrying them both, and he tries to fight it down. He can’t always do that, but when things are serious enough and he catches it early (and by early he means within the first minute) he’s managed some success. Deep breaths, focus, positive thoughts... The scenario that scared him so isn’t going to happen. Things are fine with his dad, and they will stay fine. They  **will** . He reaches out, blindly, and takes the water his dad has got ready. With every sip he forces a positive image, and by the time the glass is empty he’s okay. Not fine, no, but okay.

“’m fine, it’s fine now.”

They don’t fully believe him, he can tell, but that’s understandable. Also, they’re on the same side, if only temporary, and that’s almost worth the panic.

“Did you eat anything before rushing out? No? That’s...Son, you know you need to take care of yourself too, right, not just everyone else. Sit here and relax, okay, I’ll fix you a sandwich.”

Stiles is too tired to do anything but take orders, and just relaxes into the wall and the heat of Embry’s shoulder. When his dad returns with a sandwich and a chocolate bar he’s almost asleep again, his body reacting to all the stress he’s putting it through. He used to do better, he really did, but he’s gotten out of the habit. It’s a good thing, it is, but. It also leaves him more vulnerable than he likes to be.

“Here. You know, I think if you go out to the others there should be some coffee. Why don’t you go look?” Again with the unsubtle hints. His dad **never** suggests Stiles have coffee – it’s like him offering pizza for dinner. He gives him an unimpressed look.

“Really, dad? ‘Go have some coffee’? Is that what you’re going with? You don’t think I realize what you’re doing here, trying to get me out of the picture so you can threaten Embry? And you better not be thinking about making good on any of those threats now, do you hear me?”

Twin stares of “really? Who’s supposed to be the parent here?” meet him, and he flushes. So he tends to go a little overboard at times. It’s not like he’s being unreasonable here!

“Fine, coffee. But if I go off the rails here, remember you asked for it,” and he wags a finger at his dad before getting up and leaving.

He stops by the door, turns and hesitates.

“Dad? Please, I... I know it’s a lot to ask, but trust me? And don’t do something we’ll regret, okay? I love you.”

Waiting for an answer is too much, and so he just walks out, starting his quest for coffee.

 

By the time the door to the cabin opens Stiles is a mess. He gave up on the coffee after the first two mouthfuls, opting for the offered cocoa mix instead, gulping down mug after mug of it. His knee is jangling, he’s bitten his nails down, and is seriously considering risking his dad’s wrath just to break the stand still. The door handle hasn’t even been pressed the whole way down before Stiles is up on his feet, butterflies the size of spaceships in his stomach, and fear almost drenching him.

Who’s coming out? What’s happened? Are they both okay? Just... He needs for his dad to be okay.

When his dad steps out and starts walking towards him he stumbles, a mix of gratitude and fear taking over. His dad is okay. But what about Embry? John Stilinski is a good man, and a good cop, and Stiles has never doubted that. Now... Now he doesn’t know what to think. Because if his dad decided that Embry constitutes a threat to his only son, then there’s no telling what he could have done.

For every second that passes without Embry joining them the fear grows, and Stiles feels his legs give out under him. This cannot be happening. His dad cannot have killed Embry – not when Stiles trusted him, left them alone. It’s his fault. And now what? He knows how to hide a body – but that is neither something he wants to tell his father, nor prove again. And even if they do hide it, they’re dealing with werewolves. They’re screwed.

“Dad...” he whimpers.

“Son,” and he’s swept up in a bear hug. “We need to talk, just the two of us, okay, but later. When I’ve processed this, and when you don’t look like like you’re going to fall down dead any minute. For now though, why don’t you go rest some more? We’re not leaving yet for a couple of hours, and I’d like to talk some more to chief Swan.”

“But dad...” How can he be so calm, when Stiles is about to go out of his head? How can he treat this like any other day?

“No, come on, kid. Besides, I’m guessing you and Embry have some talking to do as well? Just, if he lays one finger wrong on you? I’m turning him into a rug, and I don’t care if he’s ‘phased’ first or not.”

He blinks. Did his dad just say...? And then he runs.

 

They talk, stretched out on separate bunks, about important things – not just wolves and the supernatural and them, but about games and favorite food and which Marvel hero is the best. (Stiles likes Iron Man. Embry – predictably – has a soft spot for Wolverine. They both agree that Storm **is** a Goddess, and not just because she was worshiped as one before Xavier recruited her.) It’s good, and calming, and it puts Stiles to sleep much too soon.

 

Once he’s home, and alone in his room he just...sort of falls into his chair. The last 24 hour have been a roller coaster, and he doesn’t know what to think. He’s gained a new pack. He never  **wanted** a new pack – hell, he didn’t even want his last one, and not really his first either. (The semi-pack thing they’d had going, him and Scott and the others, he’d liked it, sure, but. He hadn’t liked the reasons behind its existence.) As for Embry... He’s not sure. All he knows is that he’s not ready to think about it in any more dept. Not now.

Instead, what he needs is a little pick-me-up, an  indulgence so to say – namely sending an e-mail to Scott.

He rarely contacts his best friend for all the obvious reasons, but sometimes he risks it. So far he’s sent a Christmas card (posted in New York by one of the deputies, signed with a fake name) and sent two e-mails. That’s all, in close to six months.

He wants to talk to Scott for real, wants to tell him everything, wants things to be the way they were back before the Bite. But, things **aren’t** like that anymore, and Stiles is afraid to take too many risks. The address he uses is one no one except Scott has, just as no one but him knows the one Scott’s using. He’s gone so far as to ask Scott to not write from home, just in case Derek’s check-ups include snooping through his room or placing spyware on his computer. It’s slightly paranoid, yes, but it’s also not beyond the realm of possibility.

After all, Derek has Danny, whose computer skills is right at the top of Stiles’s list of reasons how he’s scared Derek will find him. Scent is out of the picture by now, and they haven’t told anyone their new location.

So far Derek (or his pack) hasn’t shown up, so Stiles is okay with being called paranoid. He’s also okay with taking a few risks in order to still have Scott in his life. No matter what goes down or how many times one of them fuck up, or how far apart they are, this is his best friend. His brother. And he’s not willing to give that up without a fight.

_Scott,_

_went fishing with dad and some of his friends this weekend. It was boring, and no, I didn’t catch anything, but at the same time I ended up having a good time. How’s that for a surprise?_

_The quiet, and the fresh air was good for me, I think, and..._

 

He soon settles into a new routine. Embry calls him every day, and texts him a few times as well – exchanging more information, building a foundation for them to stand on. It’s a work in progress, they both know as much, but luckily Embry’s willing to do the work. And because he is, Stiles is too.

The first visit comes Wednesday (and yeah, part of Stiles is impressed, having sort of expected the wolf to break down and show up Monday) and they move carefully around each other. They are both new to this, and to each other, and Stiles is more than a little wary. He has every reason to be. It helps that his dad is equally wary, and more than ready to make good on any and all threats of turning Embry into a rug (or worse).

One day he’ll be able to relax around the wolf, he knows it. One day.


	7. Chapter 7

Saturday morning sees a half-sleeping Stiles dragging himself into his car. Not that he particularly wants to, seeing as he hasn’t slept this poorly in months – sure, eight hours have always been more exception than rule, but three is pushing it even for him – his Adderall hasn’t kicked in yet and his stomach is rebelling. But. This isn’t about what he wants.

When Billy Black had called Thursday about having a bonfire,  **Stiles’s** bonfire, today both Stilinskis had balked at first. After the lovely introduction to Embry’s Alpha – and, incidentally, Billy’s son – Stiles would have preferred some more time before going to LaPush, the Quileute reservation, and a formal introduction to the packs. He  **needed** that time to come to terms with what had happened, and what it would mean, and most importantly: to get to know and trust Embry a little better first. And then Billy had kept talking, saying that of course John was invited to come along.

And that, right there, is t he one thing keeping him (relatively) calm at the moment. He’s not going alone. His dad won’t be allowed to be at the actual bonfire, for some reason or other tied to pack secrets (or so he’s pretty sure), but he  **will** be nearby.

(And yes, Stiles knows there’s a gun hidden somewhere on his dad’s body. He’s more than okay with that.)

In fact, he’s pretty damn sure that’s not only why his dad was invited but also why the hurry – not just to make Stiles come (he knows they could have found a way to push him into it) but also to make him  **and** his dad okay with it. With Stiles being a minor John has quite a lot of authority, and not waiting another two days for that to change suggests that Billy is trying to say they respect John, and the fact that imprint or no, Stiles will always be his son first. It’s how Stiles would do it, and yeah, sure, not everyone is as manipulative as him, not even when they should be, but still.

_And I really should stop stalling and ranting, and just get on with this._

He gets in on the passenger side, because his dad insists on driving. Normally he doesn’t let anyone else drive the jeep, but  Stiles is fine with making an exception to that rule today, not just because he hasn’t quite woken all the way up yet, but mainly because of how on edge he is. That he’ll be a danger to himself and others behind the wheel once he wakes up enough for those nerves to start presenting themselves goes without saying.

Maybe with a little luck he  **won’t** wake the whole way up. Sleeping the trip away would be awesome.

He does. And it is.

 

They’re staying with Charlie Swan and his wife Sue. Not because that’s their only option, but it’s the one John is most comfortable with, and right now that seems to be the general guide line. “What’s most likely to not trigger the gun carrying dad?”

Stiles is fiiiiiine with that. He might be kinda ruthless himself, and pretty much an asshole when he doesn’t like people and situations, but he prefers to not be seen that way. He likes to fly below the radar – it’s saved his neck more than once. Sure, the packs know by now that he isn’t harmless, but given time they might forget and that’s what he wants. He’s going to study them, and find out their weak spots, and if he needs to he’ll  **use** that. Which is always easier if people aren’t looking at him.

Invisibility has its perks.

So yeah, let them worry about his dad. Stiles will be just fine, over here, preparing for an eventual stealth attack.

Charlie Swan is a good choice to stay with in any case, since he’s who is going to entertain John while Stiles does whatever, and his wife seems like a nice person. A good cook too, judging from the smells coming out of the kitchen. That’s always a plus in Stiles’s book, especially if she happens to have any new, healthy (or potentially healthy) and not too complicated recipes to share. Priorities, okay?

The fact that Sue is an Elder, and both her children are wolves, means she has a stake in the game, sure, but it also means she’s a valuable ally. Not to mention the fact that she might be more prone towards looking out for Stiles seeing as she’ll be going straight home to meet his dad afterwards. Anything that keeps him safe(r).

He’s willing to bet that Embry was aware of his arrival the second they passed onto tribal lands, either because of those pesky werewolf senses or because of the packs having someone on patrol, but the wolf doesn’t show up until Stiles texts him an okay. And it’s not one of those appear-out-of-nowhere-two-seconds-later deals either, no, it takes several minutes, indicating that Embry actually is trying to respect Stiles’s space. Instead of, say, lurking just outside of Stiles’s awareness, like certain  **others** would. 

It's a sound strategy. After all, John isn’t the only Stilinski capable of skinning an animal. You know, just for reference's sake.

The bonfire won't be until dark begins to fall, and while that's still pretty early with it only being April and everything, it still limits the amount of time at their disposal. Embry clearly wants to show Stiles around, show him everything, but even with a place as small as LaPush there just won't be enough time. After all, showing someone your home wasn't just about pointing out buildings and places, it was about the memories attached – and those didn't care about size.

“You know, I had all these plans, but looking at them realistically... There's no way we're going to manage all of that today. So, how about this? The grand tour of LaPush can wait until tomorrow, or your next visit,” _provided there is one_ , “if you don't feel up to it, and instead we try and keep it simple today? My mom would like to meet you...”

And okay. Meeting the parents feels so cliché, and Stiles kinda hates the fact that the first time he'll do that will be for  **this** , but it's also something he recognizes as important. Embry's met his dad, and if Stiles really  **is** going to be tied to him for the rest of their lives, then it's only fair that he returns the courtesy. Even if he feels a little uncomfortable meeting a  **mom** . Then again, he guesses it isn't fair to make Embry suffer because Stiles’s own mom isn't around.

Or, you know, anything else.

Maybe.

 

Meeting Ms Call – Tiffany – is interesting. She's exactly Stiles’s kind of woman, meaning  **strong** . She's raised her son alone, without allowing herself – or him – to become bitter, and she's done so in a way that even Stiles can admit has made Embry lovable. (He might not be there, and he doesn't think he'll ever be like  **that** , but he can still see that.) She's managed to hold her head up high during hardship, and turned her life into something good.

He respects that.

She reminds him of Melissa McCall in so many ways, with the last name and the werewolf son actually only being minor details. There are differences though, and the biggest one is how they relate to him.

To Melissa he was always this hyper kid who kept getting her son into trouble. It's true, of course, but.

Tiffany, however, sees him as someone who's helping her son, who might actually keep him out of trouble. Embry calls him “brother” and Tiffany echoes it, whereas Melissa...never did. Oh, she loves him, in her way, but that love always came with restrictions. She never saw him as family. Never  **wanted** him as family. And yes, he  **knows** this to be true.

Once the worst pain from losing his mother had lessened – not disappeared, no, never that – Stiles had begun wondering about what would happen should his dad start dating again. Eventually that had led to him and Scott – who had worried about the same – deciding that the best course of events would be if their parents started dating each other. To a pair of lost teens clinging to each other it had seemed perfect. Their parents worked so well together, and Stiles and Scott already felt like brothers. What could be wrong with that?

Yeah. What?

That dream had died the summer between sixth and seventh grade, when Stiles had overheard a conversation between Melissa and her sister.

He hadn't meant to, had only gone looking for a glass of water after waking up during a sleep over. When he'd heard Melissa say that his dad had asked her out, he'd stopped and listened, barely able to contain his happiness.

That hadn't been a problem for long though. Melissa had turned John Stilinski down, and hearing her reason knocked all lingering hope out of Stiles. It was him. Melissa hadn't wanted to be his mother, hadn't wanted to be responsible for him.

Dating his dad, yes. Marrying him and letting him take the place as Scott's dad, also yes. But no to acting as Stiles’s second parent.

He knows her reasoning was sound – he'd been a handful, even on good days and with his meds, and he'd known it even back then. Taking care of Scott alone, with his health issues and Mr McCall out of the picture, had been enough of a commitment. Asking her to take on Stiles as well, well. It wouldn't have been fair. No matter how much he'd wanted to. No matter how much he'd wanted for her to love him enough that there would be no need to  **ask** .

But. Fairness or not, understanding or not. It had still hurt. Still does, years later. He'd loved her fiercely, and almost as much as he'd loved his own mother, had seen her as family – and finding out that she didn't want to be had torn his slowly mending heart into even smaller pieces.

The rest of the summer had been spent trying to learn how to run the house on his own. Melissa had helped with so many things, and John and Stiles had both been grateful. (Stiles wasn't the only one back then who thought it meant more than it did.) After hearing exactly how draining Melissa found him, Stiles had been determined not to let her anymore. He'd phased her out, slowly at first, then faster and faster as he became more competent. By Thanksgiving he'd been standing on his own two feet, and never asked for (or accepted) her help again.

She'd come off as a mix between sad, offended and relieved. Stiles, of course, had gotten caught up on the last one.

John and Melissa had drifted apart as well after that. And _huh,_ he hasn't thought about it like that – because it's all in the past, right, and Stiles usually does his best not to dwell on it at all – but his dad never made an attempt to date again after that. That realization is immediately followed by a question. Does that mean Melissa broke his dad (too), or just that John gave up on believing someone would want both of them? And  _woah!_ that's a depressing thought.

By the time the McCall's had left Beacon Hills there hadn't really been anyone outside of the four of them who remembered the way they'd been referred to as the Stilinski-McCalls.

No one would, ever again, even if they all somehow ended up in the same place again, and not because of Stiles. (In retrospect, that particular secret was maybe one he should have kept. John's reaction had been...interesting. Okay, okay.  **Terrifying** , okay? It had been terrifying, and Stiles had thanked his lucky star – shut up, he totally has one, it just happens to be more than a little dysfunctional – that Melissa was far, far away.) 

None of that matters anymore, though. None of it  **should** matter anyway. And Tiffany is great. Stiles actually relaxes and just  **is** , talks and eats, and listens, and ignores the fact that if it was completely up to him he wouldn't be here. Because what he needs right now is support, and balance, and anything he can find to keep him from going off the rails all together. Tiffany...is one of those things, he thinks. And so he just allows her to try.

When it's time for him and Embry to leave for the bonfire Tiffany makes him promise to come back the next day for lunch, with his dad, and then embraces both of them. It feels...strange. Exhilarating, yes, but mostly strange. Stiles doesn't get that many hugs. From his dad, yes, and the occasional bro hug from Scott, but apart from that? The closest he's gotten in years (once he distanced himself from Melissa) is being held up  _or down_ by Derek.

And no, not going there. Good thoughts, happy thoughts only. (Derek would never be the memory behind Stiles’s patronus, okay, or the thought to make him fly. He wouldn't.)

The smile on Tiffany's face, that's a happy thought, as is the matching one Embry's sporting. So that's what Stiles focuses on.

“She likes you. I thought she would, but... I'm happy.”

“Yeah, I'm all the rage with werewolf moms, didn't you know?” _Damnit,_ _ **happy**_ _thoughts. Happy. Thoughts._

“Why wouldn't you be?” And he's sincere, and Stiles just can't. “My mom... It's like, to her, you're the return of my free will. Ever since I first phased there's been so many things that have been completely out of my control. When we told her everything, that's what she got hung up on. My lack of free will.

“Phasing for the first time, it's something we can't control. At all. None of us even knew it was an option, and the things that cause us to phase... After that we're tied to the reservation, and the tribe, like no one else, with this huge **fate**. And then we have to worry about imprinting as well... Mom hated that. I did too – hell, we all did.”

Stiles can understand that. It's not, after all, exactly a picnic from his side either, at least not as far as he's concerned.

“My dad has never been in the picture. I didn't even know his name until after I came clean about being a wolf, and about how genetics play a huge part. He was a Black, it turned out, a result of Billy's grandfather having an affair in his old age. Billy's actually my cousin, weird as it may seem.

“Anyway, one day he just up and disappeared. Mom kept waiting for him, especially once she found out about being pregnant just weeks after, so certain he'd return. He did, sure, but years later, with a wife and three kids. The eldest was just six months younger than me. A 'whirlwind romance', mom heard. That's when we left the Makah rez and moved here.”

There's no way of knowing, of course, not without some serious snooping, but to Stiles? It kinda sounds like the man had phased and imprinted. He's not bringing that up with Embry though. If he wants to talk, fine, if not... Well. Not to mention, if Embry  **hasn't** had the same suspicions Stiles sure as hell doesn't want to be the one to bring that up.

“The thought of doing that to someone? Even without actually knowing the kind of pain it brings none of us is too keen on risking that. At the same time, the thought of being alone for the rest of my life... I didn't want that either. Now, with you? Now I'm beginning to believe I won't have suffer through that.”

And that...explains so much. Not just about Tiffany's reaction, but about Embry's, and well, everyone else's too. It's not just about him, or his refusal to be the traditional kind of imprint. It's about how he supposedly  **isn't** , and how tradition doesn't cover this. It's about how he just might have turned Embry into the only wolf who can date without having to fear repercussions, and maybe, just maybe, if Embry and Stiles have this, then it could happen to others as well.

At the same time it's this huge, scary thing that makes Stiles want to scream and run away, makes him feel the panic attack just waiting.

He's just been turned into a symbol, and even though he has no idea what it will mean for him, he's pretty sure it's not a good thing. Not if he wants to keep his  **own** free will. Which, by the way, he's had precious little of as it is since his crash introduction to the supernatural, and he's not going to give up any more of it, not even if he has to kill for it, and–

_Abort, abort. Distraction, something, anything, he'll be able to tell, he'llknowI'mscrewed, distra– Yes._

“What did you mean, about knowing the pain it brings? It sounded like you meant something, and I'm tired of not being able to read between the lines.”

“Ah. It's a long story, okay, and not one I want to go into here and now, but. Sam and Leah were together. Before. And then he phased, and imprinted, and it...kind of broke Leah. We've been in her head, we **know** how much it hurt her. It's why she went to Jake's pack – to get away from Sam, from being in his head and seeing how much he loves Emily.”

Oh. That's... “That's awful.”

“Yeah. It really, really was. I don't really remember Leah much, from before, because of the age difference and everything, but I've seen Sam's memories, and Seth's, and the way it changed her... I wouldn't wish that on my enemies”

They walk in silence for a while, and Stiles' thoughts spin and spin, and he's actually beginning to think that this imprint might be a good thing, because of what it'll mean for Embry.

Assuming, of course, that the wolf is telling him the truth about this just being a brotherly thing, and not just stringing Stiles along until he can get what he really wants, and fuck,  **happy thoughts** .

“Right. So, what do I need to know about all of this?” He gestures widely, indicating the rez and the bonfire and the packs and the imprint, and **Embry** , and everything really, only to realize his error. “I mean, for now, what do I need to know in order not to fuck up completely tonight?”

“Ah. Well, just try not to act like you want to shoot Jake, I think. Some would find it amusing – and justified – but it **is** supposed to be a sacred ceremony. Other than that... The Spirits gave you to me, Stiles,” and yup, hearing that is still creepy, “and everyone present knows and respects that. They might not know **you** , but that will come. So just be you.”

“Everyone present? Meaning...” God, they really should have talked about all of this earlier, like when Embry had been visiting for instance. But of course they hadn't, choosing instead to talk about things like movies and comics. It had been about bonding, okay, and that shit **mattered**.

“Both packs. The imprints. The Elders. You've met Billy and Sue, and Sam's actually an Elder as well, and that just leaves Old Quil, our Quil's grandfather. The imprints, that's you, Sam's Emily, Jared's Kim, Paul's Rachel and Quil's Claire. Oh, and Jake's Nessie, but she's probably not going to be there.

“As for the wolves, first there's the Black Pack. Me, Jake and Quil, plus Seth and Leah Clearwater. Leah's Jake's Second, by the way, as I'm his Third. The Uley Pack, that's Sam, with Paul as Second and Jared as Third, and then Collin and Brady, who are just two years older than you. I think you'll like Seth best though.”

Embry sounds hesitant when mentioning the Clearwaters, but Stiles can't really figure out why. Or could it be that Stiles is staying in their family home, even if Leah doesn't, in fact, live there anymore? Does he think Stiles is unaware about their wolfy-ness?

“Dad mentioned something Charlie said, that Seth is close to my age as well?”

“Yeah, three years older than you. He's training with Charlie, actually.”

Embry's a little calmer, a little more relaxed, but not all the way. So maybe not that, or just that. Could it be the fact that Stiles is staying in the home of anther wolf? Whatever it is, Stiles isn't going to let it effect him. He feels safe staying with the Clearwater/Swan family, and so that's what he will do. Possessive, overprotective wolf or not, Embry can just deal.

And if he doesn't... Too bad for him.

 

By the time they reach the part of the beach that is used for the bonfires – less secluded, Stiles notices, than he would have guessed, or chosen for himself – it's almost completely dark out. It makes for a more impressive bonfire, sure, but it also makes it more likely he'll mis-step and hurt himself, and it definitely sets him on edge. All his battle tested instincts roar into life, and he can feel his body adapting. He can feel Embry noticing, as well, but even the illusion of privacy is gone now, and so the wolf keeps his mouth shut.

_**Good.** _

Stiles is easy going most of the time, or at least comes off that way, but when he goes into battle mode he's anything but. Gangly nerdy teen, yeah, sure, that's who he is. But what so many miss is the fact that there's a core of steel underneath the plaid and the stupid tees. He has it in him, that ruthlessness, and while he isn't really a killer by nature, he sure is one by necessity.

It wasn't Jackson who decided to Molotov Peter's undead ass. That was Stiles all the way, and while it's not his favorite character trait it's one of his strongest. He's as much a protector as his father, or Embry – he just slips under the radar in a way they don't.

He finds his fingers tapping against his left forearm, startles and slowly removes them, trying not to draw attention to himself. There's no knife strapped there, not any longer. There might be soon again though.

 

Introductions are brief, not giving him much except a face to each of the names Embry has already given him. It doesn't matter. If he sticks around he'll find out what he needs to know for himself. Just like he always does. It's better that way.

Listening to the legends is awesome – but it's also not something Stiles enjoys. His attention disorder makes it hard for him, and he doesn't have his usual coping methods. What he does have is his phone, and so he records the telling, knowing that otherwise he'll miss half of it. (That's the reason he'll give everyone else, but, being Stiles, there's also another reason: he wants all the information easily accessible and well documented for when he  **really** begins to research this.)

Half of his attention is on the words spoken, the rest... The rest is spent observing and assessing the people surrounding him. He will have to talk to them later, naturally, and add that to the data he's collecting, but just watching people can give a lot as well. Stiles is surprisingly good at people-watching, something that may or may not be because of his long standing crush on Lydia. (And well, watching his mom and later his dad for signs of unhealth. He prefers to think of Lydia as the reason though.)

What he picks up on immediately is a given: the relationship between wolves and imprints. It's easy to see who belongs together, even when seated separately like Sam and Emily, and it gives him chills. They're so caught up in each other, so two-made-into-one, and it's Stiles' nightmare right there. It's exactly what he doesn't want, but fears he'll be forced into. He doesn't want Embry to look at him like he's the center of the universe. He doesn't want to look happy at receiving that kind of attention.

He wants freedom. He wants to go home. He wants his friends, and he wants to not be intimidated and terrified any longer. He wants  **his** free will.

He's just going to have to make sure he gets as much of that as he possibly can. No matter what it'll take.

Once the telling of the legends is over everyone follows Sue Clearwater to her home. She – and the imprints – have prepared a feast, with the intent to let everyone have a chance to talk to Stiles. He listens more than he talks though, and slowly builds up his mental files about everyone.

After a while he gets bored – typically – and decides to play a little game. Werewolf Who's Who, pretty much, or a comparison between members of the LaPush packs and the Hale pack.

He's already done Quil, that first day, casting him as Scott. Seeing the wolf with Claire, his imprint, has only served to strengthen that impression. Oh, it isn't the same, not nearly, with Claire being a little girl, but it also is. “Sneer wolf”, or Paul, feels like Isaac; all bad boy attitude and violence on the inside, but softness beneath. He hadn't believed it back then, but Embry had been right about the changes in the volatile wolf when he's with his mate.

Sam then? At first glance he'd been Derek, just based on the fact that he is an Alpha, but had never been meant to be. But that's not is. Yes, there are streaks of Derek in Sam's personality, but when it comes down to it? Boyd. Solid, trustworthy, competent. Stiles approves – it makes him feel calmer.

Seth, the guy Embry thinks he'll like... Yeah, he does. Or, he thinks he will, once he gets the chance – or rather: takes the chance. Seth is, well, sunny, and reminds Stiles of nothing but preBite Scott. Then again, they  **all** remind him of Scott, at least a little. Pieces of his brother-from-another-mother in all of these would-be-brothers. It's not so strange, really.

Being a teenager, and having everything change on you. Finding out you're a mythical creature, that you could hurt or kill the people you love – that you need to protect them against others who will try to hurt or kill them. Oh, and of course, that head-over-heels, nothing-else-exists love.

Yup. Scott all over.

And it scares him a little –  _a lot_ – because it weakens his resolve. It softens him towards them. 

He shakes himself out of his darkening thoughts. He needs to not go there, not here and now anyway. Later, when he's home and alone, and safe, maybe. Not now.  _Let's return to the game then, shall we? So they're_ _**all** _ _Scott..._ And that really wasn't the point of all this, now was it? To have everyone be the same?  _Where's the fun in that?_ So instead he turns, looking for a new target, smiling a little when his eyes falls on Emily and Leah.

Most people would – if they were wired like Stiles, and thus not really most people at all – when making a comparison like this cast Leah as the LaPush Erica, he guesses. The only female wolf in a bunch of testy boys. And yeah, he can see that. He can see deeper, though, and when he looks beyond the obvious who he sees echoed in Leah isn't Erica. It's Allison. Beautiful, broken and remade, love and laughter turned into hate and bitterness, a strong yet fragile person keeping herself set slightly apart from the people that would welcome her.

And then it hits him. Leah isn't just Allison – she's  **him** too.

His little game loses all its appeal after that.

 

About an hour in all the wolves perk up, and Jacob rises and leaves. It doesn't seem like there's anything wrong though, and it's not like he'll miss the Alpha, so Stiles goes back to talking cooking with Emily. So what if it makes him look like a good little imprint? He  **likes** cooking, most of the time, and while he still swears by curly fries, fast food all the time would kill him.

When the door opens and Jacob returns Stiles just ignores it, until he notices the mood in the room change. There, next to Jacob, is a striking young woman that's clearly not Native, and just as clearly the aforementioned Nessie.  Just...  _Wow._ She walks around, chats with people, and then sets course for Stiles. He braces for impact. The Alpha's Mate going for him? This can only be interesting.

“Hi, Stiles? I'm Nessie. Welcome.”

He smiles, and nods, and talk about irrelevant things while trying to project harmless little bunny. It's probably not working, but he's trying anyway. Trying never hurts. Almost never.

“Can we talk, in private? Just, like out on the porch.”

It's clearly meant to calm him, as if she can tell how his body is reacting to her – but she shouldn't be able to, not like the wolves – and he gives her a bland smile.

“Not sure how private that'll be, not with the furballs and their super senses, but yeah, okay.” They walk outside, in silence, while the others pretend like nothing. It's ridiculous, but you take what you can get.

“So?”

“Billy told me about Jacob's behavior towards you, and I wanted to apologize on his behalf. He's much too stubborn to do so on his own.” Stiles’s eyebrows shoot up, because **what**? Nessie just smiles.

“I’ve known and loved Jacob my whole life, and I will keep loving him until he dies, but he’s far from perfect.” The smile on her lips grows fond and knowing, and yeah, he’s more than a little surprised that she’s able to be that aware, with how in love she seems to be. It’s not something Stiles is used to seeing, okay, lovesick people who are also clear sighted.

“He has a bad habit of thinking his solution is the best, and go with that no matter what the other people involved think, and sadly it also has a tendency to wok out. He needed this, Stiles. He really, really needed to be smacked in the face with the realization that just because it’s always worked there’s no guarantee that it always will, or that it’s right for everyone.”

There’s a story there,  **at least** one, as so often with these people, and Stiles really, really wants to know. He’s not going to push though, because they might push back, and that...would get ugly. Maybe even shoot-you-in-the-face ugly. So he just nods.

”My best friend is like that. Sometimes his plans work out, and he ends up saving the day in a spectacular fashion, but when they don't... Turns out, getting kidnapped isn't as glamorous as you might think. So yeah, I get it. I just don't like it.”

“Which is your privilege. I get it, I really do, but I was hoping you'd be willing to give him a chance anyway? I do have a vested interest in keeping him happy, you know. At least you shouldn't push Embry away because of Jacob's mistakes. They might be pack brothers, but they aren't the same, and with the imprint you are more important to Embry than any of them. Even his Alpha.

“I don't want to push you. I just wanted to apologize, and to tell you that if you have questions you're welcome to talk to me as well. I'm not always around, since I don't live permanently on the rez, but I try to always be available to family anyway.”

The implication, that  **he** is family now, sends a frisson of cold down his spine. He keeps it off his face though, smiles and nods again, and makes his excuses. Fifteen minutes later he's in his borrowed bed, meaning to think about the day, but so beat from stress and worry and being on edge that he's out within a minute.

 

The next day is calmer, and not. Walking around LaPush with Embry and hearing all the stories about growing up is fun, and stress free, but there's also lunch with Tiffany and his dad. They get on well. Too well. Because when Stiles said Tiffany is his kind of woman, he really meant she's a  **Stilinski** kind of woman. The last thing he wants is for his dad to fall in love with her. Yeah, it should be a good thing for his dad to at least bond with her, to have another parent to talk to and lean on, but. Stiles might have told everyone that he's trying to make this work, but. He's still not committed to this. He might look it on the outside, but inside he's still keeping himself apart.

Part of him wants to just relax and embrace this, to take what's offered and  **be Pack** . Sure, he never really felt like he belonged to the Hale pack, not as anything but Derek's bitch, but he'd still had the pack to lean on.

None of the betas had really wanted him around, they'd disliked and shunned him, but he'd still been Pack. They'd still been there for him when he'd needed them.

Isaac, pulling a bad-touching member of an opposing team off him, when they guy had cornered Stiles in the empty locker room after an away game.

Danny, making sure the Jackson wannabe understood that “picking on Stilinski” was no longer an accepted part of the script.

Boyd, guarding the Stilinski house, making sure the Alpha pack didn't get to them.

Derek, ripping–

Point is, he knows what having a pack can mean. He knows what it's like to have that. And he misses it.

But at the same time, the thought of accepting this, accepting Embry and the imprint and whatever that means for  Stiles’s place in all of this... It terrifies him. He remembers, after all, all too well that it had meant to accept the last time. Remembers what his place had been. He still fears it will end up being the same here. And he can't take that. He  **won't** take that.

As long as he doesn't fully opens himself up to all of this, there's a chance that he might be able to walk away. Oh, everyone keep telling him that there's no way to break an imprint, that it's for life. Well, fuck that. Stiles is a survivor of Beacon Hills, remember? He's learned that “impossible” only means no one's done it yet, and that he's got pretty good odds when it comes to being first.

If it can be done, Stiles will find out how. Even if it means taking the risk of calling Lydia, begging for her help.  **Nothing** is safe, he believes, when it comes to the combined forces of their intellect. He's no idiot, but Lydia's brilliance outshines him, and together... There's a reason he fell so hard, and held out for so long, okay? (It just so happens to be the same reason he's secretly relieved nothing ever came out of it.) Together they could have ruled the world. Or destroyed it.

What is one measly Spirit enforced mating bond going to have that can beat that kind of force?

 

Turning 18 is a milestone. That’s what people tell him anyway. Stiles doesn’t feel it. Maybe it’s because he’s been an adult in so many ways for so long, or maybe it’s everything he’s seen and done.

He doesn’t have a party – doesn’t  **want** to have one. The last birthday party he had was back when his mom was still alive, and after that, just...no. Birthdays became something he did with his dad, and Scott, and he was happy that way. It helps that none of his new classmates know – after all, who expects a junior to be turning 18?

What he does have is a very nice dinner with his dad on his actual birthday, and then another, not quite as fancy and nowhere near as relaxed, dinner with Embry the next day. And then, as close to a party as he’s ever going to get – or so he suspects – there’s a night out with his “girls” that Friday. They’ve planned it for a while, a plan that is only slightly adjusted to accommodate for the werewolves – his not-quite-plus-one and a few more – that beg oh-so-prettily to be included. He doesn’t think either of them have any real interest in going to a gay club in Seattle, but hey. They can tag along if they want to – it might give him a few clues as to how sincere they are.

Embry’s going, Stiles  **knows** , in equal parts to keep an eye on him, get to know him and just spend more time together. (Their bond isn’t traditional, no, but it does make a few demands.) The same is probably true of Seth, while as for Brady and Collin, well, it’s anyone’s guess. It’s not like it bothers Stiles either way – he’s just looking for a good time, and not in the euphemistic sense. Having four huge bodyguards just means he can let loose and not have to worry about having to fend off unwanted attention.

The club is different enough from the Jungle to not set off any bad memories from his few stolen outings, and he quickly loses himself in the music and the relaxation that comes with being himself. He doesn’t hide that he’s bi, no, but he doesn’t exactly advertise it on a daily basis either. Most of the kids in school seem to be okay with it, but that doesn’t mean he wants to get caught checking out someone in the showers. Or at all, honestly, as he knows he’s not quite ready to go there. Not again, not yet.

Not when even the possibility of someone thinking Stiles is checking them out has bothered him – and that, basically, explains why his attempts at dating has gone nowhere. Being more or less afraid to show sexual attraction does tend to put a damper on those kind of interactions. He should probably make an effort to change that, he thinks as the music raises his pulse and turns his blood into singing fire.

He's broken, and damaged, and he knows it. Just as he knows it's time he dealt with it.

Because by now he knows Leah's story, all of it, and it scares him. She'd been so hurt, and then so angry, and it had taken her four years, a wedding and two babies to begin to move on. She's still not healed completely, after six? seven? years, and that's just not healthy. Even  **Stiles** recognizes how very not healthy it is.

The thing is, he understands it all, understands it all too well. He knows how Leah became so broken, and he respects it – he just knows she should never have been allowed to hold on for so long.

He might see too much of himself in her, but he refuses to  **be** her. He's going to learn from her example, and do better. He's going to be strong and whole again.

A few hours in he’s relaxed enough to drag Embry close, first for a slow song, and then keeping him there when the music morphs into a sexy beat. He wants, simply put, to see if there’s something there. There isn’t. Zip, zilch, nada. Nothing. It only takes one look to ascertain that the same is true for Embry. The way that makes Stiles feel... The freedom it creates... Oh, it’s glorious.

Intoxicating.

He had, he thinks, accepted Embry’s word, his promises on the surface – but he hadn’t really  **believed** them. Not fully. They were, after all, dealing with ancient spirits, tribal magic and supernatural creatures here. Oh, and  **mates** . So, there had still been doubt, and fear, due to his less than stellar prior experiences. But now he can let that go. Now he can open up and give himself over. And he does.

“You really do only want to be my brother,” he breathes out with a giddy smile. “Dude, if that didn’t make it so gross I could totally kiss you right now.”

He spends the rest of his evening high on happiness, surrounding himself with friends and pack, and feeling safer than in a very long time.

It’s the best birthday present he’s gotten in years.

 

_~ TBC ~_


	8. Chapter 8

After his birthday Stiles relaxes.

There's no other way to describe what happens. He's calmer than he's been in years – maybe ever – and he has a pretty good idea as to why. For one, there are no more secrets between him and his father. Or rather: there are no more secrets except for the ones that would land someone in jail.

Next, there are also the packs. Humans don't feel pack bonds the way wolves do, at least that's what he's come to understand. He certainly never felt anything like what Scott described, back in Beacon Hills. Here however he feels something.

Maybe it has to do with his spark. Maybe it's because of the imprint. Maybe it's just as simple as the fact that this isn't Beacon Hills, and it definitely isn't the Hale pack.

With the exception of Scott no one accepted him there, and no one else seemed to want him around. And no, he's not counting the times Derek wanted something from him as “wanting him around”. That was Stiles being useful, be it for sex or research, not being wanted. And the betas... The betas never even admitted he was useful. Sometimes he thinks that if Derek had decided that Scott leaving meant Stiles wasn't part of the pack any longer, then the betas would have let him die without second thought.

(Yes, Danny too. He used to think Danny was such a nice guy, but he'd soon enough seen a completely different side of the boy.)

But. Unlike with the Hale pack he  **is** completely accepted here. Because of Embry, yes, but also, he's slowly coming to realize, because of himself. They are all reaching out to him, in different ways and varying degrees, but he is certain that he can call every single one of them (including Paul) if he needs to and have them pick up.

Embry's a given, with everything, but he's not the only wolf that keeps in touch with Stiles. Jake checks up on him, and his dad, at least once a week. Emily sends care packages, Paul and Jared have decided that come summer they are giving Stiles self defense lessons, Collin and Brady have offered to go clubbing with him again if he wants to, and so on.

But, with the exception of his imprinted wolf, there is one person he sees more often than all the others.

Seth, the youngest member of the Black Pack, turns out to be one of the kindest people he’s ever met. There simply isn’t a mean bone in the sandy wolf’s body. It’s hard for Stiles to believe at first, for reasons, but when he realizes that it’s not a ruse, just how Seth is... It’s exactly what Stiles needs.

Having someone like that in his life, someone who doesn't want anything from him (except a couple of his banana-chocolate-caramel cupcakes, whenever he feels like making them) is soothing, and comforting, and helps him laugh again.

It's almost as good as having Scott around again, and in some ways – though it kind of hurts to even think this – it's better. Seth doesn't have an imprint, and has no desire to date. Stiles can see why, with the whole Leah thing, and he approves. And not just because of the advantages to him. No girls mean no shoving Stiles to the side for them.

Oh, Seth has to cancel on him, more than once, and does more than his fair share of showing up late and/or leaving early. But. It's because of important things – not kisses or just empty hopes of kisses.

Between the friendship offered by Seth and the brother he now apparently has in Embry Stiles can feel himself settling, and not in the bad way. He is settling into his own skin, feeling more grounded than he can remember being since before he lost his mother, and most definitely since Scott got bitten.

He's accepting the imprint, accepting Embry, and settling into place in the pack.

He is, simply put, finding and healing himself.

 

He starts dating. Not going out on dates, but actually  **dating** . It’s Gavin, the boy whose laugh makes focusing in Spanish harder than it should be – and Stiles has never been more grateful about being practically fluent, since it’s the only thing saving that particular grade – and it’s amazing.

Gavin isn't as brilliant as Lydia, or as hot as Derek, or as “lovable” as Danny – and that's part of what Stiles likes about him. He's just Gavin. Cute, but no more than that. Smart enough to mostly keep up with Stiles, but nowhere near award winning. Nice and well liked, but not popular or looked up to, and so on. The most remarkable thing about Gavin is how he laughs, and that is what makes him attractive to Stiles. Because Gavin laughs as if there's no reason  **not** to, as if life is amazing and warm and does not hurt.

When Gavin laughs Stiles can feel his heart heal – and yes, he's perfectly aware of how sappy that sounds. Just as he's perfectly aware of how true it is.

It’s so, so easy to give the boy an encouraging smile, and a few too long looks. An offer to study for finals together is accepted with a speed that makes Stiles almost dizzy, and the rest...just happens. The last days of April becomes a series of study dates, movie dates, walks and shy kisses. Because yes, he gets his first  **real** kiss and many, many more. May continues in the same way.

They go to junior prom together, even if Stiles is hesitant. (He doesn’t say why, doesn’t explain that the formality of the dance makes him uncomfortable, brings back memories he wants nothing to do with, and Gavin is perceptive – and amazing – enough to not only notice, but get them out of there early without making a big deal of it. Stiles thinks it makes him just a little closer to falling in love.)

They move slow, because it feels good to, and because no matter what this is Stiles’s first relationship, and also because they can. They are 17 and 18, juniors in high school. They don’t have to rush into anything, and the fact that they don’t is what makes Stiles comfortable enough to call Gavin his boyfriend.

It’s two weeks into summer when they finally take the next step. They’re alone in Gavin’s room with the intent of watching a movie – or at least pretending to – while making out.

He’s in his boyfriend’s arms, warm and content and hard, exchanging heated kisses and letting his hands wander, and it’s everything he wanted but was worried he’d never get, and it’s as close to perfect as he’s known in years.

He doesn’t protest when Gavin’s hand move to his fly, just shifts to make it easier and  **goes with it** . His sex drive has been...unreliable for months, but it’s back in full force now, and fuck, is Stiles happy for it. This is goooood.

 

When Gavin moves away Stiles is more than a little loopy. (He’ll blame that, later, for his defenses being down.) He notices how Gavin’s pants tent, along with all the other signs of horny male, and just  **reacts** . (Really. It’s like one of those dog-and-bell things, he’ll think later.)

He doesn’t think, doesn’t ask, doesn’t do any of the things he should. Instead he sinks down on his knees, opens Gavin’s pants and swallows him down in one smooth, much-too-practiced move. It doesn’t take long, Gavin’s too far gone and Stiles is too good, and soon he’s moving back while swallowing the last bitter drops and looking up through his lashes. And just for a second he sees not his boyfriend but Derek Hale above him.

He’s in the bathroom throwing up before he even realizes he’s gotten on his feet.

 

They don’t talk about it. Gavin’s eyes are too knowing, too understanding, too filled with pity, and Stiles doesn’t want to know what’s going through that blond head at the moment. So he just bails. Mutters something about it being late and heads off without as much as a goodnight kiss. He doesn’t say “I’ll see you”, just that he’ll text when he comes home (he always does), because they both know. He won’t.

Oh, they’ll see each other in school come autumn, they’ll most likely continue to have class and maybe even study together, but they won’t  **see** each other again. Not like that. They’ve been good together, could have been amazing and for real, but not any longer. Not when they’ve run head first into Stiles’s issues and been forced to realize he’s Not Okay.

It’s painful, and it’s scary, and Stiles does the only thing he knows how to: he runs.

It's maybe half an hour later when he pulls to the side, forced to realize that he's not safe to drive. If the way his hands shake when he pries them off of the steering wheel and the tears streaming down his face aren't reason enough, then there's the fact that he's not home. He's not even anywhere near home. Instead he's in the middle of the forest, and according to his phone's GPS – when he gets it working – he's apparently heading towards LaPush.

Instinct, he assumes, and the sudden way his phone flairs to life with a call from Embry supports that theory. It only takes a few words for Embry to pick up on the situation, and he's told to wait where he is for someone to come pick him up. Whether to go home or to LaPush is up to him.

“LaPush. I...I want to be near the pack.”

Even with the way he's been opening up lately this is the first time Stiles has said anything of that kind, and he can tell how surprised – and happy – Embry is. It feels right though. He needs to be with his brother, with his pack, and he needs to feel safe.

Gavin won't hurt him, Stiles  **knows** he won't, but he will, if given even half a chance, ask questions. And Stiles isn't ready to answer those questions. He's healing, yes, but nowhere near enough for that. He and Gavin are over. End of story. No need to hurt them both with the sad story of Stiles' pathetic past experiences then.

He pushes all those thoughts to the back of his brain, and calls his father instead.

John is used to Stiles’s impromptu visits to La Push by now, just as he is used to finding Embry at the house without warning, but it’s very much obvious that this one is something out of the ordinary. The fact that he should still be on a date with his boyfriend is a huge clue. The shakiness he can’t quite keep out of his voice is another one. His dad does him the favor of not pointing any of it out, however, only asks that he send a text when he arrives and to call the next morning.

Double-checking that the doors are locked – the packs being protectors means that there is something to protect against, doesn't it – he pulls out the blanket from underneath the passenger seat, wraps himself up and waits.

 

It's not Embry that knocks on his window. Instead it's Seth, with a murderous looking Paul standing behind him. The first words out of Paul's mouth are “do I need to beat someone up?” and Stiles chokes out a laugh and a no.

Because while he probably does, it's not someone he can get his hands on. All three of them knows that what Paul's  **really** asking is if Gavin has hurt him, and what's happened is  **not** Gavin's fault.

Stiles isn't even sure if it's anyone's fault, really, because just as he's broken, so was Derek.

He doesn't even realize he's crying again before Seth sweeps him up and holds him tight in the backseat, while Paul slides in behind the wheel and start driving them towards LaPush. Warm and safe he just lets go. Soon he feels himself start fading though. He's so, so tired, and this second bout of crying finishes off the last of his reserves. By the time they hit the rez Stiles is asleep, only rousing long enough to notice Embry taking him from Seth's arms and carrying him from the car.

_Safe. I'm safe._

 

_~ TBC ~_


	9. Chapter 9

For a moment he thinks he's hungover. He feels that way, only worse than even the time he tried to match drinks with a newly bitten Scott. It's just, he can't remember getting drunk. He can't remember much of anything, to be honest, and that's kind of scary.

Stiles lies still, relaxes, and tries to remember. Nothing comes though, until he opens his eyes, frustrated, and realizes he's not in his own bed. _Huh._ That's...unexpected. Unsettling, in fact. Stiles doesn't do sleepovers as a rule, even back in Beacon Hills they were rare, and usually had Scott staying at the Stilinski home (after the Melissa incident), and there hasn't really been anything or anyone since coming to Port Angeles that has been reason to change that. Not even Gavin–

And **that** triggers his memories. Some of them, anyway. Oh. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Please, don't let me have been_ _ **that**_ _stupid. Please...._

He tries to figure out if he's in Gavin's bed, but the ceiling isn't really that distinct – he wouldn't know he wasn't in his room, if not for the absence of the poster he keeps straight above his pillow – and basically the only thing he can deduct is that he's alone in bed. That makes him relax a little, so he stretches and turns, only to freeze up. His foot touched something, something he's pretty sure is living. And since it wouldn't be the first time Stiles has gotten turned around in bed, ending up with his head in the wrong direction...

He swallows down the panic _please don't let me have been stupid enough to have_ _ **sex**_ _with him_ forces his body to relax at least some and sits up. _Oh_. He's in Embry's room. The relief spreads through his body in no time, making him feel almost giddy. Sure, it's not like he's spent that much time in the wolf's bedroom, for all the reasons, but the artwork displayed is pretty distinctive. So, by the way, is the huge wolf sleeping at the foot of the bed.

_Well, that explains that._

There's a second pack member present, the sandy shape of Seth Clearwater's wolf watching him from a corner. They're clearly guarding Stiles, and yes, he can understand the need to do so, now that all of his memories from the night before is falling into place. They **must** know that what really hurt Stiles this time came from within, and that it's not really something they can protect him from, but he supposes there's no way to go against instinct.

He doesn't really want them to either – being looked after and protected feels good.

Speaking of, he looks around, and locates his cellphone on Embry's nightstand. He remembers calling his dad the night before, and he's pretty sure that his dad either checked in with Embry later or that one of the others called him, but. Stiles did promise to contact Gavin, and **that** he didn't. And Gavin would have had no reason to contact the pack or they him, and oh fuck, Paul.

He hears his breath hitch, feels his heartbeat speed up and sees his hand start shaking.

“Seth, Paul, did he– He didn't, Gavin?” _Eloquent as usual, Stilinski._

The huge wolf looks him straight in the eye, and carefully shakes his head.

“So he's safe?” Nod. “Good. Because what happened wasn't his fault, not at all.”

And it hadn't been. Stiles isn't sure it was anyone's fault, not really, but out of the people that could possibly be blamed for last nights clusterfuck, well, Gavin wasn't one of them. And if he'd gotten hurt – physically, seeing as Stiles is certain that Gavin's feelings have already been very much hurt – in some sort of defense of Stiles? It wouldn't have been good for Stiles. Or whoever had been hurting Gavin.

He takes a moment to breathe, to force himself into familiar patterns designed to calm him, and purposefully thinks of only good things.

Only when he can feel his body return to normal does he reach for his phone, and opens up his latest conversation with Gavin. And huh, the other boy really had been worried. Seven messages, all asking if Stiles was okay, if he'd gotten home alright, if Gavin needed to call John... Seth had answered then, telling Gavin that Stiles was okay and in LaPush, and would contact him later.

It is “later” now, apparently. He just doesn't know what to say. Their relationship is over, beyond repair and salvation, that much he knows. The way he'd acted, no, **re** acted, tells Stiles that he isn't ready to be in a relationship yet, that he has too many issues to try and sort out before he can even begin to think about it. Still, they were friends first, and **that** , he'd very much like to save.

That will take honesty though, on a level Stiles isn't ready for yet. But, hopefully Gavin will be willing to wait for his answers, as long as he knows he'll get them. Right?

“ _I'm sorry about last night. Looks like I'm more fucked up than either of us realized. Can you give me space right now? I promise we'll talk later, but I need to sort myself out right now. I still want to be your friend though.”_

It's not an ideal message, but if he tries to wait for something ideal to pop up he'll never send anything, and so it'll have to do. He means every word of it, and that should count for something.

He waits, fidgeting, not knowing if Gavin's even going to answer. Seth keeps observing him, but when Stiles' phone beeps – causing his heart rate to go through the roof – the wolf gets up and pads out of the room. Clearly he's getting at least some privacy for this.

“ _Of course. Take the time you need, and let your friends look after YOU for a change. I'll be here. See you when school starts, if not before.”_

Message received. All of them, apparently.

Okay then. That's one item on his to-do list taken care off. The rest... The rest will have to wait until later though. While sleeping in his clothes is sadly not new to Stiles, he never gets used to the feeling of waking up that way. It's as if his clothes become alive, the way they make his skin crawl.

Plus, he needs to pee and his teeth feel fuzzy.

 _Bleh_.

He throws a look at Embry as he closes the door behind him. The huge wolf hasn't moved as much as a claw, and **that** is something Stiles never thought he'd see. Of course, chances are he stayed awake most of the night, watching over Stiles. Or, well. Just because Stiles doesn't **remember** waking up screaming doesn't mean he didn't have nightmares.

Embry's bathroom is neat, and well-stocked. It even comes with a “Stiles-bag”. Toothbrush, fresh boxers, that one deodorant that a/ works, b/ doesn't give him a rash, and c/ isn't offensive to werewolf noses and last, but most importantly: a small plastic bag containing three Adderall.

Filthy, stinky Stiles? Not fun. Unmedicated Stiles? Leave “not fun” behind and go straight for “disaster”. Not something he likes to subject others to.

Feeling a little better he borrows Tiffany's robe – because the alternative is his funky tee, and just, no – and stumbles downstairs for something to eat, since not only is meds on an empty stomach a pretty bad idea but also he's starving. Seth's either aware of this or feeling the same – or both – because he's cooking. The coffee's already done, and Stiles is all greedy hands and noises, resulting in a mug being thrust in his direction.

He drinks it while walking out to drape his slept-in clothes on the porch railing, taking his time, and when he comes back in there's a plate ready for him. Seth allows him his silence, and Stiles revels in it. Oh, he's going to have to talk about what happened, and soon, but for now he can leave it be. They eat in silence, but once there's nothing left on his plate Stiles finds himself fidgeting, fighting to keep calm. He doesn't want to know what'll happen if he doesn't take control, so he does, reverting to his fall back behavior. He opens his mouth.

“Embry seemed out of it.”

“Yeah. I don't think he's slept for more than an hour or two. You were... We were worried. So, how about we leave him to his z's while you and I relax. Watch a movie, maybe? He'll come find us when he wakes up.”

And that...sounds like a plan. Seth's brought in Stiles's emergency bag from the car – these days he might carry it more out of habit than because of claws and teeth, but it's still proven useful on occasion – meaning he actually gets to wear clothes. And movies... He can get into that, can allow himself to be completely captured without spacing out, can focus on something other than himself.

They're halfway through Return of the Jedi when Embry pads into the living room on human feet, sinking into the couch between them without saying anything.

Stiles just revels in the feeling of safety.

 

“Can we talk?”

Embry's voice is soft, much more so than usual, an full of uncertainty. It's understandable, what with Stiles' habit of not wanting to talk, but it still feel so wrong. He and Embry are soulmates of a kind – there should be no reason for the wolf to come off as afraid. Stiles hates that he does that.

“Okay. What do you want to talk about?” Because denial is so pretty.

“Stiles. You were completely out of it yesterday. You panicked so hard it woke me up. That's not something that just happens – there has to be a reason, a huge one. So, what happened? I know you had a date last night...”

And this, apparently, is where Stiles is meant to explain all the shit he's kept quiet about so far. Except he really, really doesn't want to. Why should he, anyway? It's not like the fact that he used to have sex with his former Alpha matters to anyone but him. They're never going to meet Derek, it's none of their business what kind of sexy times Stiles has been up to, and besides, it's not like this is going to affect any of them.

He needs to tell Embry **something** though, something true even, and that means navigating between events in a way he's much too good at, and really hates.

Thank god Seth has left. This is bad enough with one person, and even though the rest of the pack will see the memory once Embry phases, at least there's only one pair of eyes on him now.

“Look, yeah, I was with Gavin last night. And yes, I freaked out. Completely. I'll even admit it was because of something he did. But the important thing here? **It wasn't his fault**. He doesn't even understand what happened.

“You **know** I have issues, thanks to the whole supernatural crap and running-with-wolves thing, and that makes me jumpy at times. Gavin triggered a memory, unwittingly, a not so good one, and I overreacted.

“That's it, end of story.”

“Are you sure? Because that didn't look – or feel – like 'overreacting'. Oh,” and Embry waves off Stiles' attempts to interrupt, “I'm not saying you're lying, but it seemed more serious than that to me.”

“I'm sure. Yeah, it was a pretty bad panic attack, but Em? You've seen me have those before, and I **know** you know that they're not always proportional to what's triggering them.”

Because they're really not. He has freaked out over so many things that there's barely anything left to cover. And Embry **does** know this.

“Fine. Then we need to calm Paul down, and soon. Because he wants to hunt your boyfriend down to find out, and I quote, what the fuck he did.”

Stiles pales. He knows all too well the kind of damage a werewolf can cause, even without claws and teeth. And with someone as hotheaded as Paul... Gavin might not walk away from it.

He doesn't even notice that he's swaying on his feet until Embry catches him and eases him down on the couch.

“He can't– Gavin hasn't done anything. Nothing! Em...”

“Okay, okay. Shhh. Don't worry, I'll deal with it, okay? I promise I'll take care of it. No one's going to hurt him, not when he's innocent. Now, please, calm down. One panic attack in 24 hours is more than enough, don't you think?”

In the end, even though he manages to calm down fairly soon, Stiles isn't considered stable enough to come with Embry to talk to Paul. Instead he calls his dad. Not just to ensure him that Stiles is **fine** , just freaked out because of supernatural flashbacks, but because really, what is the point of making sure the pack leaves his ex alone if he doesn't do the same with his dad?

Because John Stilinski may be 100 percent human, but he's also armed and most definitely dangerous. (Stiles has seen his dad shoot, okay? **And** practice hand-to-hand. Chris Argent has **nothing** on John Stilinski.)

And once **that** is over, well, there's the rest of the wolves, and the imprints. He doesn't delude himself: the invite to a barbecue at Sam and Emily's that night is first and foremost so that everyone can see for themselves that Stiles is still in one piece. It bothers him a little, yeah, sure, but at the same time it makes him feel cared for. And **that** is not something to be looked down upon. Not ever.

They all seem to accept supernatural PTSD as the reason behind his freakout, and promises to leave his boyfriend – “my ex”, “oh” – alone, and even though he's a bit surprised he's relieved as well. Of course, they all – and by “all” he means the wolves, and hopes that they haven't told their imprints – remember how his reactions to them in the beginning made them believe he was being abused. He sighs. Supernatural shit. Really, it's a miracle he's not more messed up than he is.

Still, he enjoys himself. The presence of pack is soothing, and Emily can **cook**. The longer the impromptu party progresses, the more he relaxes – the more **everyone** relaxes. He catches, or thinks he does, Paul looking his way several times during the evening but it's nothing that sets off his inner alarms. It's probably the protector in him, making sure.

 

Stiles's summer plans have never been particularly elaborate. This year isn't that much different, even if it's the first time he's had a significant other to make plans for it with. He's enrolled in summer classes over at UW, tailored for high school students, for fun and to try the school out – he's been thinking more and more about staying local for college. No summer job, so his free time had been meant to be divided up between his pack and his boyfriend.

Now, however, there's no Gavin to factor in, and so when Embry suggests he stay in LaPush for a while it sounds like a good idea. Classes doesn't start for another two weeks yet, time that until yesterday was full of Gavin-plans. Getting away sounds like an excellent strategy, even if Stiles knows that avoidance and running away aren't the best coping techniques. They are good for giving himself time to figure things out, and get his head straightened out though.

And if he decides to stay after classes start? It's not like the drive to Seattle from LaPush is that much worse than the one from Port Angeles, not when it's a matter of two days a week. Adding the fact that apparently he'll have a wolf escort with him, no matter what, well.

His dad takes it remarkably well, as if he's just been waiting for the question, and offers to pack for him. Quil and Brady drives down to pick up his bag – no one's comfortable with the thought of letting Stiles of the rez quite yet, not even Stiles himself – and this is the solution that works. He trusts his dad to pack for him – to Stiles one piece of clothing is the same as another, and his dad will know without being told that he'll want his laptop. The only thing he does ask for specifically is the locked chest from underneath his bed, the one he's tried to forget about most days. It's time, he thinks, trailing his fingers down his forearm, to unlock it again.

That night he falls asleep inside a ring of mountain ash for the first time in months.

 

~*~*~*~

 

At first Paul reminded Stiles of Isaac. He'd even thought it funny, making the comparison, especially with how different they looked. Time spent with the two packs has made him revise that though. The reasons he “cast” Paul as the LaPush Isaac are still there, but... In the weeks and months that have passed since, Stiles has noticed small details he didn't spot at first, things that make him weary.

Because now? Now Paul reminds him of Peter. Not completely, thankfully, and definitely not all the time, but it's definitely there. There's just **something** about him that triggers Stiles every now and then, and it scares the fuck out of him every time he has to take a second look to make sure it's Paul, not Peter.

It all comes to a head the day Paul surprises him. The wolf has been biding his time, waiting for the right time to get answers from Stiles about his breakdown and breakup, and he isn't going to let Stiles get out of it any longer. When Stiles walks away, Paul reaches out and grabs his wrist, pulling him by it in towards Paul's body. Stiles freezes for a second, and then **reacts**. A lot has happened since that time with Peter after the Winter Formal. Stiles is no longer quite the same weak kid – he's been trained to keep himself alive against werewolves, has had his skills honed in battle and in blood, and even if time has made him a little rusty he still has it.

Maybe that's not altogether a good thing he realizes as blood covers his fingers.

By the time Stiles's panic attack is over the wounds are healed, and all traces of what's happened has been cleaned away. Still, Stiles remembers the feeling of drawing his knife, of sinking it into Paul's flesh, remembers the sight of Paul's blood spilling, the **smell** of it.

It's hours before anyone except Embry can approach him without triggering a new attack. Not even Seth is allowed close. And even when Stiles no longer starts shaking at even the thought of one of the wolves coming near him he still keeps his distance.

 

Two days later Stiles is still unnerved. He feels he has every reason to. From what he's overheard, the wolves have taken to calling what happened “the accident”, and Stiles... He appreciates the tact – at least he thinks he does – but he is more honest. He freaked out over having his wrist grabbed, and tried to kill Paul over it.

The others can call it whatever they want. Let them pretty it up if it makes them feel better.

Stiles doesn't mind – he just doesn't have the luxury to do that himself. He knows the truth: he went for the kill. He tried to slit Paul's throat, and then stabbed him, going for the heart. He didn't succeed, no, but not for lack of intent.

Oh, he didn't mean to hurt **Paul** , but he had very much meant to take out a perceived threat. And had it happened earlier, like say in the month just after his relocation? Chances are he'd have succeeded. Even against a werewolf.

Don't get him wrong, he's happy Paul's not dead, but. He failed.

He's fucked up, alright? And worse: his fucked-up-ness is also fucked up.

A year ago he wouldn't have almost killed Paul. A year ago he would have succeeded in killing him. A year ago he would have managed to either successfully slit an unsuspecting target's throat or bury his knife in said target's heart – or both. And a year ago he also would never have made the mistake of targeting someone who **wasn't** a threat – wouldn't have tried to kill a pack member (Paul may belong to the Uley pack and Stiles to the Black pack, but in the end all LaPush wolves are pack) by mistake.

He's not going to admit it to anyone, because he **knows** how bad it sounds, but he thinks he might be more upset about failing to kill as intended than about failing to properly identify someone as a threat.

Yeah. “Fucked up” is a pretty good description of Stiles all around these days.

He needs to deal with his mess, that much is clear. When he thought it was just screwing with his ability to date, well, he could push it to the side and deal when he felt like it, but now... Now it's interfering with the part of him that's a killer, and **that** Stiles can't ignore. Ignoring it is making him a danger.

So. No more.

First of all, he needs to start training again. He knows the drills, can do them by himself, but it would be better if he could find a training partner. One of the wolves would be perfect, if he can make himself interact with them, and if they are willing. After what he did to Paul...

Stiles is ashamed, and he's afraid. Embry won't give up on him, no, not if anything he's been told about imprinting is true, but that's the bond. The others... They don't have the same need to make things work out. Stiles swallows. It's possible he could get thrown out of the pack. And that would not end well. He can survive being packless, he's done so before after all, but Embry... Embry will follow him, and a wolf needs a pack.

That means he needs to fix the situation with the pack first – his stomach churns at the thought – and that in return means his first stop needs to be Paul, who he hasn't even seen since just after.

Then again, he's barely seen anyone. He is still staying with Embry, but interacts as little as he can with the wolf. The others stay away. He understands them. He would too – he can barely meet his own eyes in the mirror, and the thought of meeting theirs... The thought of his pack, the pack he's finally beginning to feel as he belongs to – that he wants to belong to – condemning him, it hurts.

He knows. He's been there before.

He remembers how Scott looked at him, after Peter and after Jackson. The doubt, the condemnation, the insecurity. The word “murderer” hanging unsaid between them.

Stiles resented it. Still does.

Regardless of what Scott had hinted – broadly – Stiles's suggestion that they kill Jackson to solve the kanima issue had **never** been about Lydia, or even about Jackson being an ass and a bully. It had been about eliminating a threat. Stopping him from committing more murders. If they'd known of a way to do that that didn't involve killing? Well, then that's what Stiles would have gone with.

They hadn't though. Jackson as the kanima had been a danger to everyone, and one they'd needed to deal with. And no matter Scott's protests, he hadn't had any viable options. Stiles loves the guy, okay, he's just not blind to his flaws. Murder had been a horrible plan, but there had been no plan b, not until Stiles had delivered Lydia at the warehouse.

(He sometimes wonders if Scott's refusal had more to do with Derek being the one to suggest it, than with the actual killing. So far he's fifty-fifty on the yes and nos.)

But once Jackson had turned, that had been it as far as Stiles had been concerned. No more talk of killing, of spilling Jackson's blood as he'd spilled that of too many others. There had been no need any longer.

Peter however... That had been different. Jackson had needed an attitude adjustment, and to be stopped. Peter on the other hand had needed killing. Taking Jackson's life during his time as the kanima would have been almost a mercy, while doing so before or after would have been murder.

Taking Peter's life had been, and always would be, a service to the world.

Scott had never grasped that. Stiles can only hope that Embry – and the rest of the wolves – will. That they will understand that sometimes that choice has to be made, no matter how hard, well, he knows they understand **that**. Their very nature means understanding it, means choosing between life and death. They are protectors, and sometimes in order to protect you have to kill. He just doesn't know if they will understand that sometime **he** will be making it. Has, in fact, already made it.

A quiet voice inside him suggests Paul might be the most likely to do so.

 

_~TBC ~_


	10. Chapter 10

Embry keeps hovering, and it's driving Stiles insane. Five full days – that's his limit before he breaks and  **begs** Jacob to put Embry back on patrol again. Almost brother or not, Stiles can't take it. He's mostly taken care of himself for years now. Last time anyone hovered around him like this was just after his mom died, that time he spent a week with his grandparents while his dad drowned in a bottle. By now it's so far out of his comfort-zone that it makes his skin crawl, and his instincts run haywire.

He reaches for his blades more times than he's prepared to admit to even himself.

When Jacob's agreeing text arrives, without hesitation, less than half a minute later, that's when Stiles has to admit he's not hiding his state as well as he's hoped.

Well, fuck that. Once he gets some space he'll get better. He has to. Also he can get on with doing what has to be done.

 

When he arrives at the Lahote home Rachel comes out. Stiles freezes, his shame paralyzing him. She has to have gone through hell, even with the speedy healing that means there wasn't a mark on Paul once she saw him, and it's his fault.

He doesn't think a platitude about “keep going” or babbling about how lucky it was that he missed, and only caused damage Paul could easily heal in no time, will help.

He braces himself for a well-earned slap or punch – he's not going to defend himself against anything she wants to dish out. Not because she's a woman, because he's not stupid, okay, he knows how deadly women can be, but because she has just cause.

Unlike him.

She just walks by him, gets in the car and drives away. He feels...strangely empty. Almost disappointed. (And no, he's not ready to consider what that means.)

When he looks back at the house Paul is standing on the porch, leaning against the wall. Because of course he is. Stiles gathers his courage again and approaches.

“Paul.” And he doesn't know how to go on, not even though he rehearsed this countless times before coming. How **do** you say “sorry I tried to kill you, please don't punish my mate for it”?

The wolf keeps looking at him, his dark eyes piercing, like he's trying to see inside Stiles, and it's more than a little unnerving. Stiles shivers and starts to throw his arms around himself, to rub his hands along his forearms – and freezes. _Fuck._

“I didn't– I'm not, I...”

Paul just nods, as if he can hear exactly what Stiles isn't able to say – not that it's too hard to guess, not with how Stiles had used the blades strapped along those same arms, the blades that are out of his reach now for the first time in days, and attacked the wolf.

“Is this what happened with your boyfriend’?”

Stiles jerks. _What?_ “No! I did **not** try and kill Gavin!” Fuck, is that what they think of him? Because if it is, then he's doomed. Might as well go back to Beacon Hills doomed, even.

“That's not what I said. Or meant. Did he nail one of your triggers, the way I did?”

“Oh.” Stiles flushes. “Yeah, I guess. Not like **that** , but. Yeah, he did. And he's my ex.” Which, you know, way to keep his priorities straight. No, I didn't try and kill him, and no, not my boyfriend anymore.

“Why didn't you tell us about them? Warn us? We all– Well, we kinda expected you to have some. Sure, you denied having been abused, but you still reacted like you had.”

Oh. _**Oh**_.

“I didn't think about it like that. I didn't **think** , period, I guess. It's not like I have a habit of freaking out this bad.” He spots Paul's skeptic look. “I **don't**.”

Paul looks at him, long and hard. Weighting. Stiles fidgets, and wonders if Embry's picking up on it. He should, which is why Stiles is here **now** , when Embry's patrolling and halfway to the Canadian border.

“You need training. I can't do anything about your triggers, or your head, but I **can** make sure you're more accurate with a knife. If you're going to use a weapon you can't afford to miss. Once you go on the attack–”

“The enemy goes from seeing me as insignificant to a threat. Yeah, I know.” Derek's told him, time and time again, while running practices aimed to make sure Stiles wouldn't miss. “But, what, you're offering to train me? Like, as in you're going to voluntarily be near me with a blade in my hand? After what I did? **Why**?”

“You need it. And you're **pack** , Stiles. What happened doesn't change that, no more than the packs splitting changed the fact that Embry's my brother.”

The relief flooding his body is too much; it's dizzying and he really can't tell if he sits down or just falls on his ass. Doesn't matter – he's still considered pack. He's **getting help**. _I won't have to do this on my own._ And that just might be the best feeling in the world.

Paul lets him take a couple of minutes to process, and then gives him a serious look.

“I am serious about training you, and I'm sure the others will be happy to help as well. But Stiles? Before we do **anything** you need to come clean about your triggers. All of them.”

“It's just the wrist thing, I guess. I mean, that I know of and that you can trigger. There are a few more things, and I can't talk about them – **I can't** – but those aren't an issue, like the red eyes and–.” And then he sees how Paul goes still.

“It's not an issue, **right**? Tell me it's not.”

“Not with us. There **are** supernatural creatures out there with red eyes, but us wolves don't get'em. We're gonna have to work on that later, then?”

Definitely. Much, much later though, at least if Stiles gets a say in it. He says as much, and Paul just nods. Good. Especially since, you know, that particular trigger is likely to make Stiles respond in a way he doesn't want anyone to see.

“Now, about your boy– your ex. Don't even think about pretending he didn't do anything – I saw you, and I know people don't react like that for nothing. So, are you ready to tell the truth about what happened?”

Stiles should probably be offended that Paul's more or less calling him a liar, but well. He does have a history of being exactly that. And it would be very much in character to lie, in order to protect Gavin from a pack – sorry, **two** packs – of overgrown and overprotective semi-brothers.

Besides, it's obvious it's coming from a place of legitimate caring and worry, so Paul gets a free pass with it. This time.

Now, how to explain, without spilling too much?

“Look. Yeah, okay. Gavin **did** trigger my...episode. Sure. But it wasn't his fault, and I know he doesn't have a clue as to what really happened, why I reacted the way I did. I freaked him out too. I don't know how many different ways I can say it.

“He was my first boyfriend, as I'm sure you know, but before, back in Beacon Hills... There was someone, for a while. We weren't dating or anything – it was just sex. He was... I was just so damn tired of never being wanted that when I realized he was available, I just, I jumped on the chance I guess.” It's not exactly an accurate description of events, but it's as good as Stiles can do without going into details he has no intention of sharing.

“I thought I could do the no strings thing, I really did. Turned out I couldn't.

“So, instead of having something to make me feel better I ended up having feelings I shouldn't, and meaningless sex – all while that sex ruined every single bit of progress we'd made towards becoming friendly. **And** I felt like crap.

“That, on top of the supernatural shit? Was why I was so happy to leave. What happened with Gavin brought back some less than happy memories from that, and basically told me I'm not ready to date. Not even someone as great as Gavin.

“End of story.”

Maybe it is, maybe it's not. Stiles just know he **wants** it to be the end of that, and is going to do his damnedest to make it so.

And Paul, well, he lets Stiles pretend that it can be.

 

Things soon settle into a routine. Stiles extends his stay in LaPush, “for now” he says, because he's safe and cared for there; because his dad's summer vacation isn't until August; because Embry goes silent and twitchy whenever the possibility of Stiles being away and alone is mentioned, and because Stiles really isn't ready to risk seeing Gavin.

He knows he needs to, to talk things out and let go, knows he will, but he's not there yet. He can't imagine going back to Port Angeles for the foreseeable future – and being pack means he doesn't have to.

So. He stays. He keeps himself busy, and he tries to heal.

He goes running in the mornings, sometimes alone, sometimes with a pack member – be they on two feet or four – trains knife-work and self-defense with Paul as his main instructor three afternoons a week, and even meets up with Leah at least once a week for yoga and meditation.

It helps. It's not perfect, and it's not going to work as a long term solution – he's not treating what's really wrong, just learning to cope better – but it's a lot more than he had when arriving at the rez after his breakup.

His summer classes start up. He's only required to be on campus for two days, which luckily are back-to-back, meaning every Thursday Stiles – and his werewolf escort of the week – drive down to Seattle, where he spends long hours in class – wolf friend close by – and then spends the night with a former colleague of Charlie Swan's – again, wolfy shadow close, just in case. And then on Friday he repeats his classes, and makes the long drive home – usually with a new wolf riding shotgun.

Weekends see John Stilinski arrive in LaPush more often than not, joining his son, his son's imprinted wolf and – interestingly enough – Tiffany Call for whatever they feel up to, in between fishing trips with Billy Black and Charlie Swan.

It's all strictly scheduled, and it **works**. Being with the packs give Stiles so many things he's never had before, and being with his imprint helps him focus in a way nothing ever has. Classes at the college challenges his mind, as training does his body, and he feels great.

The only issue is his wolf related shit – his **old** wolf related shit – which admittedly is a huge one. Truth be told, however reluctantly, it's more a question of **Derek** related shit though.

Still.

He needs to find a way to deal with his problem – his very real, very much Derek caused problem. He just needs to figure out how, and where to start looking for it.

 

Surprisingly, or maybe not, it's Sue Clearwater Swan that provides the puzzle piece he needs. It's a mom thing, he guesses – and maybe that's also the answer to why he's surprised.

He just doesn't know how to count on a mom coming to his aid, doesn't know how that even works. He lost that a long time ago.

Still. He just never expected her to approach him, and he stand staring at her with his mouth open for what feels like forever after she tells him he needs a shrink.

“I'm sorry if this comes off as rude, but you clearly have some issues that you haven't dealt with, that are causing you harm.

“Now, I was going to let you do this at your pace, but with what's happened so far this summer–”

Stiles feels the blood leave his face, and his knees begin to give. They **told** her?

“Stiles, sweetheart, sit down – before you **fall** down.

“Seth told me you had a panic attack, **not** the first one either, and that you and your boyfriend broke up. Embry's spooked enough that I'm surprised he lets you out of his sight” and that could, **should** sound so stalkerish, has felt so in the past, but now only feels safe, “and everyone else is also worried. Even my supposedly cold-hearted daughter.

“Your father worries too.

“I also know something happened after you got here, something with Paul, and while they refuse to talk about it, it has them even more spooked. So, don't you think it's time you talked to someone professional about what's eating you?”

Yeah, except for how what's “eating” him – and god, he's really, really uncomfortable using that term here – has to do with werewolves, and he's not exactly eager to get locked up. He's damaged, and in need of help, sure, but he's not insane, and that's going to be any self-respecting shrink's first thought.

At which Sue just laughs.

“You **do** remember who my daughter is, don't you? And what happened to her? I wouldn't suggest you go see someone, if I didn't know you'd be taken seriously.” And then she goes serious again. “I looked around, for Leah, but she refused to go. I kept the name though, just in case she changed her mind. She hasn't so far, but... Good for you though, wasn't it?”

That sobers Stiles up. Sue found someone, a shrink in the know about the supernatural, who could have helped Leah – and Leah refused to take it. And that...that makes his mind up. He sees himself in Leah, yes, and while he's never, ever telling anyone, she's kind of his role model and cautionary tale, all in one cute-but-deadly package.

He doesn't want to be Leah. And that means he needs to do what she wouldn't.

He says yes.

 

_~ TBC ~_


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles fidgets, unable not to. The chair he's in is comfortable, and the room inviting. Calming. Just, it's not helping.

He's been to see a counselor before. That means he's somewhat aware of what lies ahead of him. At the same time he has absolutely no idea. It's one thing being a ten year old suffering from panic attacks due to losing a parent, or being checked up on as part of the Adderall prescription process (or even being dragged in to see Miss Morrell after getting beat up by “the opposing team”). It's slightly different being a damaged human member of a werewolf-pack meeting a supernatural-savvy shrink after freaking out over sex, followed by almost killing a packmate.

And by “slightly” he of course means utterly, totally and completely.

Stiles looks at the doc and is at least grateful that he's seeing a woman. A man would most likely just make things harder.

Or not. By now Stiles has accepted that his ability to predict how he'll react to something is shot to hell.

“So, Stiles. Before we start I would like to introduce myself a little. I am, as you have been told, Doctor Bianchi. You're welcome to call me Sophia, should you so wish. Should you feel uncomfortable calling me by my first name now, then change your mind later, that is perfectly fine. This offer is not limited to the here and now.

“While I have a number of so-called normal clients, you are far from the first person to walk into my office due to the supernatural. That means that regardless of how strange or unbelievable something may seem, I am not going to wave it off and assume you're crazy or a liar.

“It also means I keep a lot of secrets – and I will keep yours as well. The exception to this rule is that if I have reason to believe you are a danger to yourself or to others – and I mean solid reasons – then I reserve the right to speak to your father.

“Do you understand?”

Stiles nods. It's reasonable, after all, and so he tells her.

“Good. I'm hoping to not have to do so, but. Better be upfront from the beginning, I feel. Now, from what my contact told me, you belong to a group of shape-shifters though you yourself is not one, you are bonded to one of them, and you need my help because of trauma caused by your contact with supernatural creatures?”

And yeah, that's one way to put it.

It's maybe a bit of an over-simplification, at the same time as it's getting too close to the truth, and Stiles doesn't quite know how to respond in a good way. Doesn't know how far to trust this doctor – he only trusts her at all because Sue was going to trust her with Leah.

Which is, admittedly, a pretty good incentive for trust – if he wants to be rational. (Rationality has never been one of Stiles's stronger suits.)

“Could you tell me more about it? How did you come in contact with these shape-shifters?”

Stiles laughs. It's short, and not at all happy, more like a bark than anything else, but. It's a reflex. As is putting sarcasm into his answer. (It's not his only defense anymore, or even his best, but it is the one he prefers.)

“I went into the woods looking for a distraction and found werewolves.”

That's an accurate summary, Stiles thinks, for all of it. That first time Scott might have been the one to technically find Laura, and Peter, but Stiles was along for the ride as well, and then there was Derek. They both found werewolves alright.

“And as the short version, that's pretty cute, but I'm sure you understand why I'm going to need a few more details. At least.”

And that's cool, it's understandable – it's so obvious Stiles counted on it, and prepared. Because again, he doesn't know how far he can trust Dr Bianchi, and while he's willing to take a few risks with himself, he's not risking Embry and the LaPush wolves.

So the story Stiles tells is honest, and mostly complete, but a bit vague on the details. She's getting all the important parts, and that's what counts. Right? He tells her about finding Quil – though he doesn't use a name – and outing himself as someone in the know. He talks about meeting the others, and about Embry imprinting on him – though there he **does** use the wolf's name. Not doing so is going to be impossible in the long run.

He describes being introduced to everyone, and being accepted, and accepting them in return. And then he falls silent. It's time to talk about the reason (or at least the latest of them) for his presence in this room.

“By the sounds of it you haven't been with this pack – or your bonded for that matter – that long. A few months? Right. And by the way you describe them, and your interactions with them, I would not have thought them to be able to cause either severe trauma or a visit here.

“Which means there is something you need to tell me, but for some reason aren't. I know this is probably going to take a while for you to believe, but you **can** trust me. I am not going to use anything you tell me against you, or your bonded, or your pack. What I **will** do is help you to the best of my abilities. Regardless if that means just listening, or a way to disappear, and basically anything in between.

“This is about **you** , Stiles, and what you need. And it's clear you need help, with something – so please, let me help you.”

Stiles swallows down threatening tears, and a hint of panic, and tells himself he's done worse. He has. (That doesn't help nearly as much as he'd like it to.)

“I was part of a pack before. They... Things were different there. Harder. Like... Hellmouth hard, yeah?”

A small smile and a nod tells him she gets the reference, and Stiles relaxes a little even if he's not quite sure why. Buffy works. Good.

“We moved **here** because it's where my dad was offered a job. But we **moved** because of the supernatural shit. Because I had to get away, and the only opening I saw was for dad and me to basically walk away from our lives and start over somewhere new. And, and that, the Hellmouthy stuff? That's where most of my issues are from.” The rest, he thinks but doesn't verbalize, comes from his mom's death, and his dad's job.

“And **yes** , those issues are what managed to land me here. Not my current pack. They just got the dubious pleasure to get caught up in the result.”

“Would you tell me what happened? What was it that made you – all of you – decide it was time to get you professional help?”

“I get panic attacks, sometimes. Well, I had a really bad one, and didn't want to tell the pack any details about the whys. They pushed, and as bad luck will have it, with one of them 'pushed' became 'pushed the wrong button', causing things to get violent.”

It's an over-simplification of things, but Stiles doesn't know this lady, doesn't know how much she can take.

“Violent how?”

Okay then, blunt it is.

“As in I pulled a blade, sorry, **two** blades, went for his throat and then his heart, and if he hadn't been a shape-shifter I'd be facing murder charges right now.”

And this is a test, a breaking point, Stiles suddenly realizes. If the doc **truly** means what she says, then she'll find a way to help him. If not, then he's going to end up arrested. Or worse.

“Okay. That would qualify as 'violent', I agree. You said he 'pushed the wrong button'. Did you mean that he in some way triggered you?”

Stiles nods, because yeah, that's obvious.

“How? And, if you could, what was the event that caused the trigger to exist in the first place?”

_Oh joy. Let's talk about creeper wolf._

It's one of the last things Stiles wants to do, since he's spent too much time lately thinking about the man – and having nightmares about him. Yeah. Stiles doesn't even want to **think** about the creepy ex-Alpha. Peter was insane when they killed him, and Stiles suspects that that never has and never will change. He was disturbed in so many ways. Smart, yes, but sick. Coming back to life, he'd also brought back so much negativity, for Derek first and foremost, but also for Scott, Stiles and Jackson. (He's not even going to bring Lydia into the mix.) And considering Stiles's suspicion that Peter would have **loved** to be in Derek's place when it came to Stiles (and **his** place in the pack)... Is it any wonder Stiles doesn't want to think about Peter?

At the same time, he knows it's necessary. He understands – he just doesn't like it. And so he talks about Peter Hale, former Alpha, mass-murderer, manipulator, psychopath, and resurrected creep.

He talks about Peter attacking Scott, and Lydia, and using Melissa to get to Scott. He describes how Peter went on his killing spree, going after everyone involved in the fire. He talks about how he spent just about every moment terrified, not for himself, but that his father would end up a casualty.

And finally he talks about how it ended – or rather: how it **should** have ended.

“I helped kill him,” and he probably shouldn't be telling anyone this, “and I'd do it again. My only regret is that when he found a way to crawl out of hell we didn't send him back the minute we found out.”

Really. It would have saved everyone so much pain.

Stiles doesn't want to talk anymore about Peter, and he's pretty sure he's positively radiating that. He still ends up having to. Because really, there's no way you can talk about someone coming back to life, and not have the person listening ask about it. Luckily, Dr Bianchi changes the subject afterwards.

Or maybe not so luckily.

“So, what was it about your old pack that made things so hard? Because regardless of how you put it, I am definitely getting the feeling that you wanting to move away was more about the pack than about the, what did you call it? The 'Hellmouthy stuff'.

“Or am I wrong?”

“No. I, it was the people, mostly. I could take living on the actualfax Hellmouth, sure, as long as I had people to rely on. And you'd think that's what being in a pack means, yeah? Only not so much, not with that pack anyway.

“I didn't belong, and I hated it, and I was only there because of Scott. He was – is – not just my best friend, he's my brother, and there's no way I'd leave him on his own.

“After he was bitten, he didn't want to be in a pack, not really, but 'wolves **need** pack. He needed the stability, the teaching, the support... He needed all of it, or something bad was going to happen. He was too stubborn to admit it, maybe even to see it, but I was scared one of us would end up dead – and I knew it'd kill Scott if he'd ended up hurting me or his mom.” _Or Allison._

“And then we found out there was a new threat in town, and there was no way our little not-quite-pack of two would have been able to protect ourselves. Or our parents, for that matter. The safest thing would be for Scott to join the pack, the **real** pack. He'd be protected then, somewhat, as would his mom. And I figured I'd be safer that way too.

“Except Scott was too stubborn, and the new Alpha was the same – at least after Scott hurt his pride. So I ran interference, pleaded Scott's case with the Alpha, and got him a place in the pack.

“Turned out, I got myself a place as well.”

“And did you not want one?”

Stiles snorts, remembering turning down that very thing by turning down Peter.

“Not...really? Sure, I wanted to stay by Scott's side, but I figured I could do that anyway, that I didn't need to be in the pack for that.

“Also, I didn't want to be a werewolf. Like, really, really not. But the Alpha decided to take us both, and I didn't know to get out of it without risking Scott's place as well, so...

“Before I knew it, I was in too deep.”

Having to explain to the doc, who looks innocent enough to make Stiles feel more than a little dirtied, exactly what he means by “too deep” is embarrassing as hell, but it needs to be done.

So he does it.

He tells her the whole ugly story about how Derek mistook his offer to get on his knees and beg for Scott's sake, and how it led to a sexual relationship. (The word doesn't feel quite right, but it's the nicest one he can come up with, so relationship it is.)

He tells her about Scott leaving, and about realizing Derek still wanted Stiles in the pack, and in his bed, and he tells her how lonely and isolated he'd felt, in a pack of people who didn't care about him.

He tells her how he never felt part of the pack again after Scott left, and how things with Derek steadily got worse, to the point where it had felt like the only choice was to leave town.

It's not a story Stiles is really comfortable telling, for so, so many reasons, and so he keeps his eyes on his feet while he speaks. It's not until he's done that he looks up at the doc again. What he sees makes him freeze.

Dr Bianchi is still, unnaturally so, and there's something in her face that doesn't fit his perception of her as sweet and innocent. All of a sudden she looks like a predator, and Stiles can feel the hair on the back of his neck rise. Sophia Bianchi, he realizes, is a dangerous woman.

All of Stiles's instincts flare to life, and his body starts preparing. Fight or flight, and something makes he think fleeing is the best option here.

He must be telegraphing his distress, somehow, because just like that the doc shakes herself out of predator mode, sending him a calming smile. Well, Stiles is sure it's meant to be calming, but it's not. He's still on edge, and expects to stay so until he gets out.

“I'm sorry, I... Would you give me a minute?”

Stiles nods, because what else can he do, and watches as the doc gets on her feet, rolls her shoulders a bit, and then walks over to the window, cracking it open. It reminds him of the 'wolves, how they will air out a room when feelings get high. He's no wolf, can't smell pheromones and such, but the fresh breeze that steals its way in feels very nice anyway. Maybe it'll help him relax.

The doc takes her time sitting down again, and even more to start talking. It doesn't bother Stiles, not after the roller-coaster his emotions have gone through, and they have time. Every second spent in silence, spent on calming them both, is one less second spent digging through Stiles's feelings and beating him up emotionally. He'll take what he can get.

When she speaks again, Stiles knows he'll soon wish for the silence to return. He's even more right than he thought.

“Do you believe your former Alpha raped you?”

The question hits Stiles like a slap. Rape. It's a word he's never ever allowed himself to use about what happened between him and Derek.

“No.” The answer is immediate, and almost brutal, but he can feel the honesty of it reverberate through him.

 _It's a good thing,_ Stiles thinks, _that I wasn't sent here when I first ran into the packs._ Because, as much as Stiles is sure now about what happened between him and Derek being consensual on his part, he used to be just as sure that his consent was optional. He doesn't think so any longer.

The last couple of months, having Embry and the packs, have given Stiles a kind of peace he's been missing for a long time, and he's used it to deal with some of his fears and suspicions. As a result something has shifted, making Stiles think that if he'd managed to scrounge up the courage to say no, Derek **would** have listened.

(At least when it came to the sex. Stiles is still much too unsure for comfort when it comes to whether or not Derek would have let him turn down the Bite.)

The doc looks at him, unconvinced – or so he interprets her face – and he elaborates. “I consented, okay? The word 'no' never passed my lips.”

“Not saying no doesn't equal saying 'yes', Stiles.”

“I know, okay? Trust me, I know. My dad is a cop, has been my entire life. He's given me like ten versions of that speech. I understand consent. I could have said 'no', I didn't. Sure, circumstances were less than ideal, and the reasons behind it looks more than a little shady. But the truth is that I chose to do it. I chose to have sex with Derek. And had things been different, I would still have chosen to do so.

“Yeah, I'd have wanted it to go down a bit differently, and for some things to be differently, but bottom-line: I was attracted to him, and I enjoyed having sex with him. But I was always aware of my right to say no, and I believed he'd respect it – respect **me** – if I did. The second I thought he might not, I left. Okay? Derek didn't rape me.”

He shakes his head, and looks away, letting that be his sign that he's done with the subject. But of course it's not as easy as that. Of course it's not just over because he wants it to be.

Regardless of what he just told the doc, Stiles **knows** that it's not as easy as just not saying no. Consent is complicated yet not – and means a lot more than not refusing.

Still, he **doesn't** see what happened as rape. Not just because he didn't say no, it was always more than that. He consented. Maybe not entirely for the right reasons, but he **did**. Regardless of how much as Stiles used to worry about Derek not accepting it (and yeah, he just lied about that, but, hindsight, okay?) the option of saying no was always there, and Stiles never used it. He could have, could have refused, could have put his foot down, and seen what would happen.

Could have seen if Derek would take no for an answer, or if he'd have resorted to actually raping Stiles. Yes, he thought about doing exactly that, considered saying no, but once 'considered saying no' turned into 'I don't want to do this, I want to say no' he'd **acted**. Sure,he still didn't say no as in actually looked at Derek and said the words, but Stiles thinks moving away without notice or a forwarding address makes for a pretty big withdrawal of consent.

Oh, things were going south pretty quickly towards the end, but well. There **is** a reason the end happened soon after.

“I've had a lot of time to think about it, doc, and when it comes to **this** my answer is no. It wasn't rape. It was fucked up beyond belief, sure, and stupid as hell, but that's it.”

The doc still looks weary, and unconvinced, and she's still giving Stiles bad vibes. If it was one of the pack members acting this way, Stiles would call Jake, or Sam, and beg for an Alpha order to keep them from committing homicide. Since that's not an option here, he goes for more words.

“Look, regardless of how things were between us, he's not a bad person. Sure, he sucks at human interaction, and he's never going to win Alpha of the Year, but he's not **bad**. He has– fuck this, **Derek** has stood between me and danger on more than one occasion, okay? I would be **dead** now if not for him, and so would Scott. Maybe my dad as well.

“Derek went up against people he **knew** would not hesitate to kill him to protect me and my loved ones. He stood up against his only living family for me. I've seen him crawl through broken glass, not caring what it did to him, to protect me.

“So don't try and make me cast him as a villain here. Sure, he's fucked up, more than once, and yeah, my ass ended up paying the price for that at times, but that's not all there is to him.

“The truth is, he's broken. Just like me. I don't think he's ruined, or evil, or that he **wants** to be any of those things. I just don't think he knows how not to be. God knows he could use a couple of rounds with you – and by that I mean **years** of therapy.”

It's obvious that his words haven't fully convinced Dr Bianchi, but Stiles isn't backing down and he's making his entire body project that.

“Okay, let's say you're right. Let's give him the benefit of a doubt. Tell me more about your former Alpha – tell me about Derek. Besides having sex with an underaged pack member, under dubious forms, what kind of **man** was he?”

Stiles flinches at the jab, but accepts the challenge.

“Unfinished. He lost his family young, practically every single blood relative at once, and it was so damned obvious that it fucked him up. He was still a kid when it happened, and while something like that makes you grow up faster than you should ever have to, it also stops you from growing up **right**. When my mom died... It twisted things, okay? And I had my dad, and he kept me somewhat steady, but it, it didn't work all the way. Derek had a comatose uncle and a barely-legal-adult sister, who was struggling just as hard.

“He's protective, like I said. **Very** focused on having a pack, possessive I guess. I **think** that losing his family is behind that, but I can't swear on it. Not... Like, two of his original betas wanted to leave, and he let them. Derek didn't **want** to lose them, but he refused to force them to stay. It had to be **them** wanting to be pack.

“And again, when Scott's mom decided to leave.” _And in between, Jackson._ “Derek didn't have to let any of them leave, could have used his power to keep them in the pack, but he did. He let it be their choice.”

And wow, that... Stiles had almost forgotten that, in the wake of his own fear. _What happened?_

“And yet you make it sound as if you were scared he wouldn't let you leave. I did understand you correctly there, did I not, when you talked about the only way out being leaving and starting over?”

She'd understood him correctly, alright.

“Yeah, I worried. I would think about the future, about college and such, and I knew I wasn't going to settle for community college, or the best of the local ones, that I was going to leave. I was, no, I **am** aiming high.

“And I realized I didn't know if Derek would be okay with me leaving. And yeah, human, meaning he couldn't **order** me to stay – not in a way that I **had** to listen to – but that was easily changed, right? And I didn't want that.”

The _and I didn't know if he'd be okay with that either_ hangs in the air, unsaid.

“But yet you said he allowed others to leave? Why not you? If, as you claim, your relationship was only physical, then shouldn't he have been able to replace you easily?”

And wow, that hurts. It's nothing Stiles hasn't already thought, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

“Honestly? I'm not sure. When Scott had to leave, Derek was calm, helpful even. He made all the arrangements needed for Scott to move onto another pack's territory and have a place with them – and at the same time made sure Scott knew he still had a place in Derek's pack. Knew he could always come back, be it for good or just a visit.

“It was still hard, I mean, losing a beta? That was effectively losing a member of his make-shift new family, and family always seemed like the most important thing there is to Derek.

“ And then, just weeks after Scott left B– one of the betas who ran came back. Derek...didn't exactly welcome him back with open arms. It took quite a lot of convincing, from what I understand, and he had to stay with Derek for days before he was allowed to go home to his family. I guess... Running could be forgiven, but not forgotten, yeah? The first time Derek freely offered a place in the pack, but the second time around that place had to be earned.

“At least, that's how I interpreted it. After that... Derek got harder. More possessive of his pack.”

What Stiles isn't saying is that the fact that Boyd had returned on his own, without Erica, and that too had affected Derek negatively. And then of course there was the Alpha pack, and Ethan... Yeah, Derek had gotten several reasons for being possessive at once.

“So you're saying he changed, for the worse? And this change, it started when, before or after Derek became an Alpha?”

“After. Way after. And it was gradual. At first it just looked like a bit of power-tripping. It wasn't until late August, maybe early September that I started really worrying, and by then Derek had been an Alpha for like six months.”

Dr Bianchi nods, looking pensive, and seems to focus inwards for a while. It's as if she's going through some sort of internal files – the way Stiles himself does from time to time – and Stiles finds that he's really curious as to what it is that's going through her head.

He doesn't have to wait too long.

“I'm not going to lie. There are a lot of warning signs here, Stiles, and I am finding myself needing to fight my instincts when it comes to your case. Every single one of them is telling me to make sure you never come close to your old pack again, and that your former 'Alpha' can't ever have a pack again.

“What you're describing sounds very much as at the very least borderline abuse, and that is something my code of conduct, and my oaths, doesn't allow me to leave running rampant.

“But. There are possibly other factors to consider, other forces at play here. Tell me, do you know about the concept of anchors?”

Stiles nods. The term is new, but he gets what the doctor's referring to at once. An anchor is what keeps the werewolf grounded, human. Yeah, he gets it – he had, after all, been the one to help Scott find his.

“Good. Then this shouldn't be too foreign to you. All werewolves need to be anchored to their humanity, but Alphas even more so. And in addition, which could be argued is even more important, they need to be anchored **in themselves**.

“The reason for this is something that many don't realize. The Alpha controls the Pack. This is no secret. But, what is less known is that the Alpha also **influences** the Pack, that his or her feelings and so on influences theirs.

“What very few, even within the packs, know is that that influence goes both ways; with the Pack influencing the Alpha. An Alpha who has a shaky anchor and a shaky grasp on their own self is susceptible to negative influences from the pack. Just as one rotten apple can ruin a whole basket, a rotten pack member can ruin the pack by influencing a weak Alpha.”

“ _I like you, Stiles.”_

The words come racing out of his memory, crashing into him, spinning him around, spinning around **in** him. _IlikeyoulikelikelikeyouDoyouwantwantwantwantlikeyouwantyoulike....._

He backs up, runs his hands across his arms, searching for his blades, being thrown even further into panic when he can't find them. Fuck. Rule. Number...three? He thinks. He **never** breaks it. Only apparently now he has.

 _Embry took them_ a voice that sounds like his own says, but that doesn't make any sense. He doesn't know any “Embry”. Does he?

Frustrated Stiles goes for his pockets – he **can't** have been stupid enough to go waltzing about without any kind of protection, surely. There needs to be at least a bag of mountain ash there. There **has** to be.

His elbow strikes something, hard, and pain flares up, making Stiles bite back a cry. It also shakes him out of his panic and back into reality. Because that “something” is a door handle. He's not in a parking garage, he's in an office – a **shrink's** office – and Peter Hale is nowhere in sight.

Right. Stiles presses his back against the wall and sinks down to the floor, pushing himself into familiar breathing patterns. They take over, and soon Stiles is somewhat in control of himself again.

“Fuck. Uh, sorry, but...” His voice is rough, his body and mind spent, but still. Manners. He's been told they apparently matter.

“Don't worry. Language is one of the least of our worries here. Would you like some water?” When he nods – because his body is very insistent that yes, it wants that water – the doc pulls out a bottle from a mini fridge, shows it to him and asks if he'd like to stay where he is, or return to the chair.

He stays. That's all he's capable of at the moment.

She takes a few steps towards Stiles, but stops before she comes too close, and reaches out with the bottle before returning to her chair. Once Stiles has drained half the bottle she gives him one of those searching looks that makes him squirm.

“I assume we hit another one of your triggers?”

“Uh, same one actually. Or wait, is it the same when it's the same event setting you off, but a slightly different memory doing it? Either way, hell yeah, trigger.”

There's a softness in her how, and not even Stiles's paranoia detects the danger vibes from before. Good. He's not in any shape to deal with it right now.

“Would you like to take a small break? We have the time, and if you want there are snacks available.”

A breather sounds great, and snacks too, even if moving doesn't. He doesn't have to. Stiles finds himself slowly making his way through the water, a banana and a pack of peanut butter cups – still seated on the floor, back against the wall.

He feels better afterwards. The boost to his blood sugar helps, as does the almost silence – the sound of Dr Bianchi typing is familiar, and soothing – which gives him the space to gather his thoughts, and his mental armor.

When he gets up and walks back to the chair the doc sends him a soft smile. Stiles is the first one to speak though.

“So, that happened. And it kinda sucked. Sorry. Probably should have given you a heads-up, but in my defense I **did** mention the panic attacks. Also, I did **not** expect to have one here.”

“It's okay. Are you feeling better now?”

Better? It's suck a relative word. Maybe. Stiles shrugs instead of answering, then finds himself talking anyway.

“I hate them, hate the way they make me feel, as if I'm weak. And I don't get it. It **never** used to be this bad.

“They started after my mom died, when everything was so damned painful. When I wasn't mourning her, I was terrified that something would happen to my dad, that he would walk out the door one day and never come home again.

“But I got over it. Losing mom got a little more bearable, and dad kept coming home safe, and it got better. The panic attacks pretty much disappeared.

“Not even when I realized I was living on the Hellmouth did it get this bad, not even when I thought I was going to **die** , or that everyone I loved would. And now?

“Now I've had three major attacks in less than two weeks. I don't get it, and I **hate** it.”

“Would you believe that it's actually quite normal? You were, in a way, in the middle of a war zone. Having a panic attack then, when things were bad enough that you thought you'd die from them, would have left you vulnerable, would have lessened your ability to defend yourself. And that was something you couldn't afford.

“The human mind is an amazing thing. It knows how to keep things locked away, to keep us safe. But when that is no longer needed? The door needs to open.

“You're safe now. Your mind recognizes this. And that is most likely why this is happening. Some of it is pent-up emotions finally allowed to come out. Some is you no longer being used to it, and not knowing quite how to deal. And some it that subconsciously you **know** that it's safe to let your emotions – your fears – run free, even be in control for a while. Because you know that you have people to pick you up should you fall – or to defend you until you can pick yourself up.”

It sounds...believable. Oh, Stiles knows he'll go look it up for himself, but. For now it's an explanation he can accept. And speaking of explanations...

“That thing you said, about one rotten apple... Is it really possible for one member of the pack to have that much influence? Can one single person” _Peter_ “cause the others, well, the Alpha really, to feel something they really don't?”

Because if that's how it is, if what happened between him and Derek was caused by Peter... Then Stiles is going to change his answer about rape or not. He's labeled what happened between them as consensual sex, based on the fact that Derek initiated it and Stiles agreed. But if Derek didn't actually want to, if his desire was caused by others... Then it most definitely was rape, and they're both victims, and Stiles is going to have to go pay Peter a visit and make his displeasure known.

With wolf's-bane, mountain ash, and broken bones. (Obviously he'd be bringing backup. He's occasionally stupid, not crazy. Things like that is what pack is for. Paul would love it, Stiles suspects.)

Aaaand he's distracting himself with thoughts of violence to stave of another panic attack, and from the look on Dr Bianchi's face it's very much obvious.

“Oh. No – or rather, not exactly. One person can cause a lot of issues, yes, depending on how strong the feeling is. But what they do is they **amplify**. They cannot just create feelings in others – there has to be something there for them to work with, so to speak.

“Now, I am assuming that this is about your relationship with your former Alpha; that what you're really asking is if one of the others caused him to start a sexual relationship with you? Yes?

“As I said, this connection can't be used to create feelings out of thin air. But. As with just about every rule there **is** an exception. The feelings of a single pack member could overwhelm the Alpha – or the others – if the feelings were strong enough. It can't be something as simple as just lust though, it needs to be exceptionally powerful. The one case I am personally aware of involved the kind of bond that exists between mates.

“For it to be purely about sex though... We would have to be talking about a full-blown obsession, and even then I am not sure it's doable without some kind of 'support' from the rest of the pack.”

That's a bit comforting, since Stiles is almost 100 percent sure that Peter isn't in love with him at all, never mention feels that strongly. Obsession is an option, but improbable. Still, if the opportunity arises, Stiles is still going to take Peter's undead ass out of the equation. Just to be on the safe side.

The fact that he'd thoroughly enjoy it... Yeah. Stiles has never claimed to be all that good.

“Okay, thanks. That's... That's good to hear.”

That's an understatement, of course – because it's a fucking relief, is what it is, and Stiles can practically **feel** the threatening second panic attack go away just from hearing it.

“Now, I would like to shortly return to the concept about the pack being able to influence the Alpha. I realize that it is a sensitive subject, but I think it's very important. Now, you don't need to answer this out loud, but if you want to, we can talk about it.

“I want you to think about what I told you about the pack bonds, and then about the pack in your old hometown – what were they like? Were they the kind of people who could have caused their Alpha to behave the way he did?”

And that... That sounds disturbingly reasonable. Isaac, Jackson, Erica, Peter... The only pack member that had been even close to stable had been Boyd. Scott, for a while, of course, but after he'd left... Not even Danny had turned out to be someone Stiles particularly liked or trusted.

Yes. Thinking about the betas, and the changes in Derek over time, Stiles can definitely see a point in what she's saying.

Jackson had been Derek's first bite. The boy hadn't turned, no, but still. And once he had, well, months as the Kanima had wrecked havoc on Jackson, that much is and always was obvious. Stiles winces. He does not want to imagine what it would be like to have that in the back of your mind, and on your conscience.

_Derek_ _**did** _ _change, once Jackson did..._

Then, of course, there's Isaac and Erica, with all of their issues and their shared tendency to violence. Boyd had seemed to stabilize them, but then he and Erica had left, leaving Isaac and Derek to their own devices. And honestly, Stiles isn't exactly eager to revisit Peter. The less said about him, the better, but having a bond with him could **not** have been good for Derek.

Still... Derek's treatment of Stiles hadn't gotten really bad until after Scott had left though. Stiles has always believed that it had been about the Alpha worrying about losing a valuable beta, or about Scott starting a fight to protect Stiles, but now he's beginning to question that theory.

Oh, it can still be true, or part of the truth at least, but... Scott has his flaws, god knows, but he's also got a lot of strengths. His inner goodness and the strength of his moral compass are the most prominent ones, and if the pack really does influence the Alpha, then having Scott around must have been a godsend for Derek.

Just as losing the connection to him must have been really, really bad.

Stiles can understand Isaac, as long as he look at the facts and only the facts. The other boy had lost his mom young – and if anyone knows how badly that can screw someone up, it's Stiles – and then his brother. In a way Isaac had lost his dad at the same time, long before the man had actually died.

All that loss, and the abuse on top of it... It's not exactly surprising that Isaac is more than a little screwed up.

The power-tripping though, that's something else. Sure, it's not exactly surprising either, not with Isaac finally having the power to defend him – it's just not something Stiles likes.

Because Isaac hadn't just defended himself – he'd gone on the offense as well. He'd attacked Stiles at the sheriff's station, and would have hurt – maybe even killed – him, if not for Derek. Without hesitation. And that, right there, is what Stiles detests so much – the willingness, eagerness even, to hurt others.

Stiles has never hurt Isaac, not in any way, and never would have. Not even when things were at their worst, not even if he'd had the power to. Had he known about the abuse, back when it was still happening, he would have fought for Isaac. They could easily have been friends. They'd worked together that night at Jungle, and **worked well** , andStiles had actually thought it was the start of something.

But of course, instead Isaac had gone completely dark side.

Erica had been just as bad as Isaac when it came to the power-tripping, and the willingness to hurt others – like Stiles. He'd held on to hope longer for her than for Isaac – because no matter what she'd thought he'd still remembered pre-bite Erica with fondness – but she'd chosen to leave before he could see who she'd become.

Boyd had been the only one of Derek's bitten who hadn't been prone to excessive violence, but in the end that still hadn't been enough. He was steady, yes, and had wanted to belong more than he'd wanted strength and power, but he'd still loved that power. And once he'd returned from being tortured by the Argents, then held by the Alpha pack? There had been a new darkness in Boyd that had scared Stiles then.

And then there had been Danny. Danny, who had replaced his sunshine smiles with a volatile temper, a tendency to break bones instead of hearts, and an eagerness for violence. It had stayed mostly on the field, and in 'wolf practice, but it had still been unsettling to watch.

Stiles remembers thinking that it was as if Danny had shed his lovable personality as if it were nothing more than outgrown, unnecessary armor. As if it had not been who he truly was – as if it had only been an act to keep people on his side. Werewolf powers had meant that Danny had no longer needed anyone else to defend him. It had meant that would-be gaybashers would find themselves very much outclassed, even in a one-against-many scenario.

In a way, for Stiles Danny had been the least understandable – and most scary – of the teens Derek had talked into taking the bite. Erica and Isaac had agreed because their lives basically meant waiting for death. They had had everything to gain, and very little to lose.

But Danny... Just like Jackson, Danny had had everything – and still had wanted more. Or maybe it would be more fair to say that they had wanted everything they had, but without the work they were putting into it. And something had gone wrong with both of them. Stiles might be the only one to think so, to think that how Danny changed was just as horrible as Jackson turning into the Kanima, but then again, he was probably the only one really watching. Jackson had killed because he was forced to – Danny had reveled in the violence he'd suddenly been capable of. Stiles knows which one scares him the most.

Lydia would have seen the same thing, Stiles thinks, if not for the fact that she'd distanced herself from everyone the second Jackson had left town, and then left herself only weeks later.

With this new information about packs it's not exactly hard to see what kind of damage a pack like his old could do to themselves and each other. Stiles finds that surprisingly, he **does** want to talk about it, to see if the doc sees what he does. So he talks, and she does. Again, it's a fucking relief.

As the session comes to an end Dr Bianchi has one last important question she says, and Stiles steels himself.

“Are you planning on staying in touch with your friend Scott?”

And wow, that Stiles did not expect. What kind of question is that, really, when they've been talking about the mess that was Stiles's old pack, and Stiles and Derek having sex, and Stiles in general.

“Yeah. Sure, it's not going to be the same, since we're not living within walking distance anymore, but we've managed that for a year now. And regardless of how much things might chance, I really can't see myself being without Scott. He's my best friend, my brother, and regardless of what happens, that won't ever change. We've been through too much together for that.”

“And, do you think he's going to stay in San Diego, or return to your old hometown?”

Oh. That's where she was going.

“Scott will... I think he'll go back. Unless something huge happens in San Diego, and I mean life changing huge, he'll go back and rejoin Derek's pack. Scott's got his faults, yeah, but lack of loyalty is not one of them. Once he's in, he's **in**.”

Yeah, Scott will return to Derek and the others. Not just because of loyalty though. Because as much as he'd protested joining at first, Scott had flourished in the pack – and he'd made friends.

Stiles isn't even sure he can imagine something big enough to keep Scott away. Nope, he was Hale pack for sure – unless Stiles were to drag him away. (Which he won't. He likes to think he's learned his lesson when it comes to dragging and Scott. He really, really hopes he has.)

Theoretically there's the option of Allison coming back and doing the dragging, but Stiles isn't too sure about Allison anymore. Scott may have sworn undying love, and promised to wait, but that was before. Before Scott had made friends with Isaac, and Boyd, and before he'd found out about exactly what Allison had done to the both of them. Before he'd learned that Allison is why Erica had chosen to keep running after the Alpha pack let her go, instead of returning to Beacon Hills – and her family – along with Boyd.

“Okay. Then this is where I would like you to take a second to think. If you stay in touch with Scott, and he returns to the pack, then you need to be prepared to run into them as well.”

_Well, duh._

“I won't be there like I was, like I thought I'd always be, so I don't think it'll be that big of a deal. It's not like I'll be returning too. And honestly? I think we'll meet up a few times a year, at most, and then that's not going to be there.”

Probably not in Port Angeles, or LaPush for that matter, but. It is what it is, and neutral ground is a good thing.

“But yeah, I'm going to be there for the big things, like weddings and such. I like to think I can deal with seeing the pack for those kind of occasions though.”

“And can you handle seeing Derek? Or more importantly, can you handle Derek should he make a pass at you, claiming he's changed, and things will be different?”

That makes Stiles's mind stop. That... A year ago – less than that even – he would have given so much to hear those words from Derek. He would have folded so easily. Would he still?

He's not expecting to see Derek again any time soon, but as the doc's made it clear: sooner or later he's going to have to – or lose Scott. Can Stiles look into the man's eyes and not let his own stupid body, and stupid feelings, and some pretty words from Derek sway him?

He wants to say yes. He can't, and he **hates** that. But there are memories that Stiles has pushed down, and her question brings them back. Derek taking his pain the first time they had sex – well, the first time they had penetrative sex. Derek taking his pain after Stiles had been pushed around a bit too much during practice. And when the Alpha pack threatened all of them, Derek stationing a guard at the Stilinski home – and another for his dad at the sheriff's station – and handing over a bag of mountain ash, ordering Stiles to use it around his house.

The last one is the most powerful – because the ash barrier hadn't just kept the Alpha pack out, it had kept **Derek** out too. It had given Stiles the upper hand, even if only by the slightest, and if he'd wanted to, he could have used it to refuse Derek.

So Stiles can't say he'd turn Derek down. He doesn't know if he'd be able to, as much as he knows he should – because what he and Derek had was never healthy.

Stiles shrugs.

“Then I need to caution you, Stiles, since it's obvious your feelings run deeper than just the physical, to be **very** careful when it comes to Derek.

“Behavior like this does not just go away on its own. Be it the result of a true abusive nature, or something caused by the pack link, this **will not** change on its own – if it changes at all.”

The words resonate within Stiles. He **knows** they are true, knows without a doubt. And yet... He can be so fucking stupid sometimes. He's always been stupid when it comes to his heart.

 

_~ TBC ~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that while I've provided a possible magical reason for Derek's previous behaviour, I am not providing a magical fix-it. Magic can fuck things up for sure, and in no time at all, but unfucking them takes time and work and dedication. And it's bound to hurt as hell. This, of course, goes for the actual non-magical world as well.
> 
> Also, this is fiction, not reality. In real life, there are no magical excuses. If you're with someone who treats you the way Derek has treated Stiles? Don't waste your time coming up with excuses on their behalf. Protect yourself. Be it by making sure your loved on gets professional help, or by walking away – just protect yourself.


	12. Chapter 12

After his first session with Dr Bianchi Stiles settles into a routine. He goes to Seattle for school and therapy, he exercises and trains and spends time with Embry and the pack. He looks forward to the days when his dad can get away, and to spending them doing just about every and any thing they can come up with. They way they are together right now? Reminds him of happier days, when there were three of them being together like this. Before the lies. Before the drinking. Before they buried themselves, as well as her; John in work, and Stiles in crazy stunts.

Before they became two as in a broken trio, not a duo.

He doesn’t go back to Port Angeles, because with his dad so willing to come to LaPush there's really no need, but he knows he'll be able to when school starts up again.

He also spends countless hours learning about the Quileute tribe, about their language and history and traditions. The Elders hold lessons, not just for Stiles, but for anyone who's interested. There's one select group, however, taught by Old Quil, that's more exclusive. Besides Stiles it's just Quil and Brady, the three of them learning about the role of the shaman and the tribe's old, sacred rituals.

It takes Stiles approximately five minutes to realize that there's magic in the rituals, and maybe five hours to determine that it's not a magic he can wield. It's possible that it comes down to not having the strength, so to speak, but Stiles suspects it's a lot easier than that. Being Embry's imprint makes Stiles pack, and while he's never going to be on any official rolls, it also technically makes him a member of the tribe.

However, he's not Quileute by blood, and that, he thinks, is why the magic is out of his reach. It's Quileute magic, for those of Quileute blood, and Stiles just doesn't qualify. He feels it, yes, most likely because of his bond with Embry, and so he'll be able to teach it to a new generation should he need it, but it will never be his.

That's okay though. More than okay, in fact. Stiles doesn't need magic. He's got his blades, and his ability to use mountain ash, which has served him well so far and will (hopefully) continue to do so. Having power might come in handy some day, sure, but if it's one thing Stiles knows it's that power is dangerous. It's addictive and it's tempting, and it can both lead you astray and make you a target.

Not having magic actually comes as a relief.

 

And then he spends hours, more than what's probably needed or justifiable to be honest, caring for his greenhouse. His greenhouse. It still sounds unreal. It's a true luxury – even though it's built from material headed for the scrapheap – simply because it's all Stiles's, built for the sole purpose to keep him calm and make him happy.

Everyone had noticed how easily spooked Stiles was after his breakdown, and how much the absence of his knives had bothered him – the fact that he kept running his hands down his arms, where the sheaths should be, was a pretty obvious tell and he knew it. Embry had even offered to give the blades back, but they both knew Stiles wasn't really in a state to carry them. What had happened with Paul had definitely proven that.

Instead Stiles had been prepared to rely on what (dwindling) stores he had of mountain ash and wolf's-bane, knowing that the only supernatural beings he really feared was best handled that way. He'd asked the wolves to make note of any and all rowan trees they came across when patrolling so he could try and make more mountain ash. The wolf's-bane... That had been a bigger worry, especially since Stiles knew most places that sold seeds and/or plants were carefully monitored by hunters.

The fact that buying plants would also leave traces that Derek could possibly use to track Stiles down... Didn't help.

And then his pack had provided.

He comes back from Seattle late one evening, wrung-out after two full days of school followed by a session with the doc, wanting nothing more than to hide out in bed and feeling more than a little put out to find the Call residence full of pack.

And then the wolves present him with the greenhouse. It has a huge emotional impact on Stiles, especially since he immediately spots the four pots with wolf's-bane plants, and he finds himself sobbing gratefully in Embry's arms.

Oh, the fear of discovery rises almost at once, but apparently Charlie Swan has bought the plants through connections that everyone swears will be untraceable. (Stiles would love to know what those are, but he's actually come to learn that some secrets are better left alone.)

What matters isn't **how** the man has secured the plants – only **that** he has, and that Stiles's location hasn't been compromised in the act.

The greenhouse has become one of Stiles's greatest treasures, his most prized possession that isn't a memory of his mother, and it's not because of the plants it harbors, or the protection that affords. It's because the greenhouse is tangible proof that he's pack. That he belongs. It's proof that he's accepted for himself, and not just as an extension of Embry.

Being an imprint means he'll always be protected. It doesn't have to mean being truly accepted. That the pack built him a greenhouse and found him wolf's-bane just so he could feel safe, that they'd worked to give him the means to protect himself should his old pack show up – which is something they all know is a possibility even if no one wants to consider it – goes beyond protection and straight into the belonging Stiles has craved his whole life.

Yes. The pack has certainly provided.

So it's hardly surprising that Stiles loves his greenhouse, and spends hours there, sometimes just leaning against a wall, appreciating it.

It's equally unsurprising that when the pack's Alpha finally decides to put pressure on Stiles about his breakdown and failed relationship, the greenhouse is where the confrontation goes down.

When Jake comes into view, his face and body language clearly announcing that it's time for a “talk”, Stiles groans. He knows exactly what's coming, what with school starting up again in less than a month and Stiles having made plans to meet up with Gavin and talk things through before.

Yes, Stiles does take comfort and pleasure in the fact that the pack cares and worries. At the same time, it annoys the fuck out of him that none of them will let it go. Seriously. He's told them what feels like a thousand times that Gavin didn't hurt him, didn't do anything wrong, and that Stiles doesn't need them to “avenge his honor” or something. Oh, he knows that saying so is SOP for many who have been abused – and that if Gavin actually **had** been the dick they suspect Stiles would be lucky, and grateful, to have their concern – but since he's actually telling the truth here it's just annoying.

Embry's backed off, luckily, and Paul as well – even if he still keeps watch – but the others have made their concern clear. Being silent does not equal keeping quiet, as it turns out. Stiles guesses he's been lucky to have been left alone for so long. He'd hoped they all just let him handle it, but that would have been too much he supposes.

And of course it's Jake that finally forces the issue. Because he's **the Alpha**. (And yes, Stiles means that in both the negative and the positive way.)

Stiles will just have to focus on the fact that this is the Alpha's – and the pack's – way of showing they care, and use that to get through this talk.

That lasts for less than two minutes.

“Jake? You need to listen to me, for your own sake. What happened to Paul was an accident. What will happen if I find out that any of you laid as much as a finger on Gavin will **not** be.”

He means it too. Stiles protects the people he cares about – even against **other** people he cares about – and he doesn't care any less about Gavin just because his own damage led them to breaking up.

Jake of course hasn't quite gotten that memo, which yeah, can be forgiven for reasons, but it's time he learns. Now.

“I'm tired of saying this, but fine. I'll repeat it one more time in the hopes that it'll penetrate your thick skull. Gavin didn't **do** anything.”

The way Jake's face screams disbelief and judgment pushes Stiles just that tiny little bit too far. He's **had** it.

“You know what, fine. Yeah, he did do something.” Cue smug look. “He made me come my brains out. That's it, okay? Now, are you going to believe me this time, or do I need to give you all the details?”

He will, too. Talking to his Alpha about the hand-job he got from his ex-boyfriend and how he reciprocated with a blow-job is not on Stiles's list of things he wants to do, but that's not going to stop him. The lack of filter caused by his attention disorder has meant talking about uncomfortable things so, **so** often before and in worse situations. If a little TMI will get Jake – and by extension the others – to back off, Stiles will (somewhat) happily provide.

Luckily he doesn't have to. The smug look on Jake's face is wiped away the instant Stiles mentions sex, and he backs off a little.

“Great. So you get that concept. I'm assuming that you also understand that afterwards it can take a while for your brain to reboot properly? Well, before mine could, something triggered my flight reflex. Note: flight, **not** fight.

“We both know I'm messed up. Fuck, **everyone** knows that by now. I tried to **kill** Paul for grabbing my wrist. Looking at that, is it really so hard to understand that Gavin could set me off without him actually having done anything wrong?

“Because I don't get it. I really don't.

“I keep telling everyone that what happened wasn't Gavin's fault, that he didn't do anything to hurt me, and still none of you believe me. Do you think that I went off on Paul because of something **he** did as well? No? Then why accuse Gavin?

“You **know** I have a shit-ton of issues from before, we all know it. There's a reason I'm seeing a doc, okay. So **why** is it so hard be believe that that's what caused all of this?”

Stiles can see Jake waver, and tries one more angle.

“I don't know if you've noticed, but I never wear red. It wasn't always that way – back when all of this supernatural mess started one of my favorite garments was this red hoodie. But when we packed up to leave Beacon Hills I trashed all of my red clothes. And I do mean **all** of them. I even threw away a pair of socks because they had some red details.

“I was just so tired of the little red jokes and taunts, and I was **done**. I never wanted to hear any of them ever again – and I sure as hell wasn't going to leave an opening for them. It got to the point where I actually considered throwing away an old book of fairy tales, just because it contained Red Riding Hood. That book was **my mom's** , and I wasn't sure if I could keep it.”

And really, that should have clued him in on the fact that he needed professional help. Seriously. He'd almost thrown away something that had belonged to his mom because of his damage.

Luckily he's getting help now though.

“I'm dealing with my shit. It's not... I'm not great, not yet, but I'm getting there. I'm better, I really am.” Stiles wouldn't quite describe his tone as pleading, but it's a close thing. He's just so tired of all of this, of having to defend himself, and his ex-boyfriend, and of not being believed.

“I'm done explaining. Just, Jake? I want you to be fully aware of something, and to take it back to the pack. Both packs. If I find out that you've gone after Gavin in any way, I'm done. I like my life right now, I like being here and being with the pack, but don't think for a minute that that means I won't walk away if my wishes aren't respected in this. Because I will. I've done it before, and I'll do it again if I have to.

“I don't want to hurt Embry, but what's between him and me can stay between him and me, without the pack. It'll take some effort, sure, but I don't mind. I'm never going to be part of a pack that won't respect my wishes ever again.”

He can tell that Jake believes him, knows the Alpha remembers that yes, Stiles has already done exactly that once, and he can practically feel the older man give in. Stiles still stares him down, and doesn't relax until he nods.

“Okay. I'll tell them. We'll back off – unless we find out that you've been lying. Because this isn't me, or any of us, trying to give you a hard time, Stiles. It's the pack protecting one of their own.”

“And I'm okay with that. I really, really am. I just don't need it when it comes to this. But **if** I do? **When** I do? I **will** tell you. I promise.”

They sit together in silence for a while, enjoying the calm that comes with not just the quiet evening but also with having come to an agreement. Stiles soaks it up, and feels himself relax more than ever before in the Alpha's company.

It takes maybe half an hour before Jake speaks up again.

“Do you want to get back together with Gavin?”

And that... That's something Stiles has tried really really hard not to think about, but hasn't been able to avoid. It's come up more than once with Dr Bianchi.

“I could, I think. He's still open to talking to me, to being friends, and that's how it started. I'm pretty sure that if I wanted to, I could patch things up. I'm not going to though.”

Because as much as a part of Stiles wants it, he knows it wouldn't be fair to Gavin. Better let things be, and save them both more pain further down the road.

“Why not? He made you happy, and it was easy to see he really liked you. If what happened really wasn't because of him, then why not try again?”

It's not something Stiles is eager to talk about, but at the same time it's not something he can ignore – Jake's habit of doing as he pleases with the defense that it's for someone's “good” has made that impossible. He also can't ignore the opening this provides him. Jake is actually **listening** , and Stiles would be an idiot to throw that rare opportunity away.

Especially knowing that if he does, someone else will pay the price.

“Because it's not that easy.

“By now Gavin knows that I've kept things from him – things I should have told him before we started a relationship. Now, if I were him, I'd be asking myself what other secrets my partner was keeping from me, and I'd be looking for them.

“And as we both know, I keep a lot of secrets, some of which aren't mine to share.”

And truthfully? Those secrets that **are** Stiles's to share are mostly ugly, enough so that Stiles doesn't see how Gavin – or **anyone** normal really – could take them in stride and still accept Stiles.

“Getting back together with Gavin would mean either I spend the rest of the relationship lying to him, or I tell him the truth. All of it. Now, I hate the idea of lying to someone I care about, but at the same time? I hate the idea of dragging anyone else into this whole supernatural mess even more.

“Besides, Gavin and I still wouldn't last beyond high school. I like U-Dub. And even if I don't get in there, I still won't go far. Gavin? He's looking at places like Yale and Harvard. East Coast all the way. And honestly, among all the things I find attractive with him? The fact that he's normal comes in at the very top.

“I liked that he isn't connected to the supernatural world at all, because that allowed me to pretend I was just as normal as he was.

“But I'm not, and I'm never going to be. As much as I sometimes wish differently, I'm in this for life. It wouldn't matter if I was to walk away from LaPush and the packs, or from Embry even. It wouldn't matter if I never talked to my best friend again. It wouldn't even matter if I never ran into anything supernatural again.

“Because what I know? What I've seen, and what I've done? That doesn't go away. I've got red in my ledger, and I **know** it can't be wiped out.”

A look of confusion crosses Jake's face, and Stiles sighs, because _heathen_ , but elaborates:

“The blood on my hands doesn't go away just because I washed them, Jake. It's always going to be there, one way or the other.”

“Are you telling me you hurt – or killed – that many people?”

“You don't always have to be the one doing the deed for the blood to be on your hands. Shouldn't you know this by now?”

It takes a couple of seconds for what Stiles is **really** saying to sink in, but when it does... Stiles doesn't need Jake's nod to know he understands. The familiar look in the Alpha's eyes says it all.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“So do you really think you have blood on your hands, or where you only trying to make an Alpha back off?”

Stiles huffs out a laugh that's not as bitter as it would have been only weeks ago. The doc has his number, alright.

“Oh, I was **definitely** trying to make him back off. But I meant what I said. There's blood on my hands, alright, in too many ways.

“For starters, there's Scott. My reckless behavior got him turned into a werewolf. I was the one who wanted to go out and look for a dead body” and the shame still burns, after all this time, “and I was the one who dragged Scott along.

“Maybe he would have gotten bitten anyway, some other time and place, but the fact still remains that he never would have been in the woods that night if not for me and my crazy ideas. And if Scott had hurt anyone? Then their blood would have been on my hands just as much as on his.”

Or more, Stiles thinks – because he's much too good at blaming himself for the actions of others, even without being the one to set things in motion.

“Then we've got Lydia. True, she wandered off on her own, and I had nothing to do with that, but I still feel as if I'd just gone with her, if I had ignored my stupid hurt feelings, then maybe I could have protected her. Maybe I could have kept her from being hurt. Her blood? It was **literally** on my hands.

“And then...

Stiles hesitates. He never tells this story – never opens the door to that particular mess. But talking to Dr Bianchi **helps** , and that's what he needs. Help.

“His name was Ethan. He's dead because of me – because he wanted me. Derek killed him because of me,” _making me guilty not just of Ethan's death, but of making Derek kill again as well._

“Are you telling me Derek killed some innocent kid for **flirting** with you, and **you** are taking the blame for it?” Dr Bianchi's voice is soft, so soft it takes Stiles a couple of heartbeats to actually hear what she's asking.

“He– I– No– What?” And he's panicking, the feeling rising, but thankfully he's not **panicking** – not yet. “Derek wouldn't **do** that!” Because he wouldn't, and as much as Stiles had once thought so he knows better now.

“Stiles. Calm down. Do you need to take a short break?”

He thinks. He needs to think, to **move**., but he also needs to not be alone.

“I need to not sit down. Can I, not, in here?”

The doc nods, and fixes him a cup of herbal tea (it helps, both through the warmth and the actual calming qualities) while Stiles paces back and forth. He manages just enough control to not outright be climbing the walls, but that's it.

_She thinks Derek is a coldblooded murderer. And that's my fault too._

Oh, Stiles understands why the doc might have gotten that idea, but she's wrong. Yes, Derek killed Ethan, but it's not like Ethan was **human** – Derek wouldn't have killed a human! Also, what was this “taking the blame” thing she was talking about? Stiles isn't taking the blame, he's **accepting responsibility** – there's a difference. And Ethan's death **is** on Stiles's shoulders.

But the words doesn't ring as true as they used to, and Stiles stops pacing at the realization. As he turns the words, and the memories, over in his head Stiles starts to question his guilt for the first time. Ethan's dead, yes, but was it **really** because of Stiles?

Yes, the way he chased Stiles made Derek's blood-thirst stronger – but it's not as easy as that, is it?

Because Ethan wasn't just any guy – or any 'wolf: he was part of the Alpha pack. And when push comes to shove, the only difference between Ethan and the rest of the Alpha pack had been him hitting on Stiles – and, of course, that Stiles felt guilty about what happened to him. That was all. _That's it? Yeah. I really, really think it is._

In the end, pack affiliation had been what killed Ethan. Trying to court Stiles probably made his death more painful, but it's not like he would have lived either way. Not with what Stiles has gleaned about the Alpha pack's plans for Beacon Hills, and its pack. (And if Ethan had lived, well then... No.)

Derek had killed Ethan, yes, but he hadn't done so for fun, or because of Stiles.

**It hadn't been Stiles's fault.**

“Ah. Looks like you're having a bit of an epiphany?”

A bit? He feels as if he's been punched in the stomach, repeatedly (and yes, he can say for sure – he's been there, after all), but sure, that description will do.

“That's an understatement, but sure, you could say that. But, first things first. Derek didn't kill some 'innocent kid' – Ethan wasn't, he was a werewolf as well, and–”

“Are you saying he killed a pack member because of...of this?” Dr Bianchi's voice is still soft, but there's more of an edge to it now, and she's definitely making Stiles nervous now.

“No. Ethan wasn't pack. Not... not 'ours' any way. He and his pack came into town to, I don't know, stir shit up basically? Did you know there's an Alpha pack? Like, a pack made up completely of Alphas, who does god knows what except go around and try to recruit.

“Anyway, there is, and Ethan was one of them. And that's important, not just because how it meant he could defend himself against Derek, but because of **everything**.

“They came rolling into town – or well, sneaking in, because they were totally hiding for a couple of months – and said they wanted to recruit Derek. Things is, it was an **Alpha** pack, you know, and that meant they had no room for betas. Or anyone else, really. If Derek had wanted to take them up on the offer to join he would have had to get rid of his pack first, and that was never going to happen.”

Not even, Stiles thinks, if “getting rid of” had only meant sending them away. Derek had always been much too pack orientated for that to be an option. Killing his pack? Yeah, **no**. The Hale pack's Alpha would have died first – and almost had.

“Ethan... I met him, maybe three weeks before school started? At first he was just this random guy I ran into by accident, who flirted like he breathed. And then I kept running into him, and he kept flirting, and began asking me out. After a couple of days it was pretty obvious he was a werewolf, at least for someone who knows the signs, and that made me suspicious.”

“Why? Why did him being a werewolf matter?”

“Because I smelled like Derek – well, Derek and **sex** – and the pack, and I **know** Ethan noticed. For him to try and seduce me with that in mind... It was a stupid, senseless move.

“And I knew that. I've always known that. I've always known that there was no way Derek would take that well, and so somehow I apparently made the connection in my head to it being my fault how it ended. But the thing is, Ethan knew that as well. There's no way he couldn't have known what trying to 'steal' me from Derek would result in.

“All this time I've blamed myself for Ethan's death, but you know what? Ethan didn't die because of me. He died because of who he was, because of the kind of pack he was in, and because of what they did.

“Trying to seduce me might have caused it to happen sooner,” _and probably in a more painful way_ “but I think it would always have gone that way.

“And if it hadn't, if he'd lived... A lot of others would be dead instead – because he would have killed them.”

Stiles can feel the truth in what he says, can believe it in a way he never would have been able to just months earlier, and it comes as such a relief. He's carried the guilt of causing Ethan's death – and of causing Derek to kill – for so long. To lose that weight makes him feel like he's floating.

“When you talk about Ethan coming on to you, you don't talk about it as him approaching you in a romantic way. Instead you use terms as 'steal' and 'seduce'. Why?”

Stiles takes a minute to think about it. Dr Bianchi's right – he's never described Ethan's actions in any other way, not even to himself. But why?

“Because, even if I didn't know how to verbalize it then, that's what it felt like. I never knew if he actually liked me, or found me attractive, or if it was just part of a plan. I'll never know. Best case scenario, as far as I can see, was a bit of both. I think it was planned though.” He also thinks, but doesn't say, that he believes the plan was for Ethan to approach Danny, but that it changed to Stiles when Danny turned out to be a werewolf.

“Like, there's no way he didn't smell Derek and sex on me. **No** way.” Not with how many times he'd been told he stunk of the Alpha. “Plus, I know his pack were watching us. That means they **knew** about me being connected to the pack, and to Derek. They knew what he and I were doing. Derek called it 'poaching', when he found out about Ethan approaching me, and I guess that term's kinda well suited.

“Taking away members of a pack lessens the Alpha's power. Taking away someone like me... Even if Derek didn't care for me as more than a sex-partner and a pack member losing me would still have had an impact. The result would most likely have been an Alpha who wasn't just weaker, but also angry and less likely to make smart decisions.”

There's also the fact that Stiles has a spark of magic, something Erica and Boyd could have easily told the Alpha pack about, which makes him an asset. Not a huge one, no, but he's been told more than once that having someone with the ability to work mountain ash, and to handle wolf's-bane, is an advantage for a pack.

He knows from first hand experience how true that is.

Maybe the Alpha pack had already had someone. Maybe not. Still.

“There's more to it though, isn't there, Stiles? Because when I listen to you, I hear someone who talks about being wanted, who longs for it, and yet you refuse to believe that this Ethan actually did.”

He laughs. Because yeah, she's on point here.

“Well, how could I? Look, I'd gone through my whole life not being able to find someone who wanted me enough to go to the movies on a Friday night, and I'm supposed to believe this guy wanted me enough to challenge an Alpha for me? To risk his life – the life of his only family? It makes absolutely no sense!”

_At least with Derek I knew exactly what the stakes were._

He's a bit surprised how bitter he sounds, but maybe he shouldn't be. It's a festering sore, and it's time he deals with it.

“Look, Ethan had a pretty good idea about me not being exactly happy with the way things were. He knew about me and Derek, just as he knew that it was just sex, and that none of the other pack members were exactly fond of me. He knew they would protect me from outsiders, but would happily shit all over me themselves.

“And he preyed on that. He promised me protection, and belonging, and love, and yeah, I wanted that. I wanted that a lot. I just don't believe that his offer was genuine. I wanted to, for like five minutes, but I couldn't.”

Those minutes had been... Well. Stiles remembers the way his emotions had gone through the roof, swirled and swayed, and how tempted he'd been. Only he knew, deep down, that it never could have been as easy as just saying “yes” and becoming Ethan's boyfriend.

“See, it was a really tempting offer on the surface. A pretty package, so to speak, bows and all. But underneath? Not so pretty.

“Because when you get down to it, Ethan was part of **the Alpha pack**. A pack where the price of admission is the life of every single member of your old pack. Am I really supposed to believe they'd have accepted a **human**? Sure, for a while maybe, to please Ethan perhaps, and definitely to further whatever agenda they had, but then? I'm well aware that they were less than happy about humans being in the know. If they'd had access to me...

“They would have either killed me or turned me, my wishes and Ethan's be damned. But, turning me would have made me a beta, which yeah, since it was an **Alpha** pack, still wouldn't have worked that great. They'd have made me kill an Alpha for the power.

“I didn't want that. I can kill if I have to, in defense of myself and my loved ones, but just to get – no, to **steal** power I never wanted in the first place? No. That's not how I work. That's not how I **want** to work. Besides, I didn't want to be a werewolf. Yeah, there are advantages, and I'll admit to being tempted by all that power in the beginning, but I've learned better. I **like** being human – even when it means being breakable.”

Peter Hale hadn't believed those words, probably because of how conflicted and jealous Stiles still was back then, but now? No one would be able to hear a lie in his words, because there are none.

Ethan had promised protection, but in the end? Stiles knew as well back then as he does now that even had that promise been genuine it wouldn't have been worth anything. When it came to the hierarchy of the Alpha pack Ethan had been at the bottom, and had Deucalion – or Kali, for that matter – decreed differently Ethan would have folded. And on the supposed chance that he hadn't? Not even Ethan's own brother would have sided with him, which would have had the same effect.

Besides, there had been his dad to consider. Derek and his pack had had everything to win by keeping a competent and somewhat friendly sheriff alive – even without the added Stiles-factor. The Alpha pack? Did not.

As long as the Stilinskis were in Beacon Hills, the Hale pack would always have been their best bet when it came to safety and protection. Stiles knows this. He's always known it. That is, after all, part of how he ended up on his knees in front of the Alpha in the first place.

Better the devil you know, and all that.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Looking his ex-boyfriend in the face and admit to not having been honest about some pretty important stuff? **Not** high on the list of things Stiles wants to do. In fact, it's not on the list at all. It is, however, something he has to do, and preferably before they end up sharing a classroom again. (Or their mutual friends start asking questions.)

So, the weekend before school starts up Stiles heads back to Port Angeles and meets up with Gavin.

He's not comfortable having Gavin over at his house, since it echoes of the intimacy they've shared. Meeting at home could signal “getting back together”, and Stiles does **not** want to send those signals. He's also not comfortable going to Gavin's house, for the same reason, and for the added bonus of there being a small risk it'd trigger more flashbacks. Instead they meet up at a park, where they can sit out in the open and talk (and Embry or one of the others can lurk, just within line of sight, regardless of Stiles's wishes) but still not be overheard.

Seeing Gavin for the first time in months is...conflicting. It's more than a bit painful, for all the reasons except Gavin himself, yet causes a familiar warmth to rise within him.

(Stiles wishes they were meeting for any other reason than this.)

It's awkward as hell at first, with neither of them willing to be the first to speak. So they sit next to each other on the bench, neither really looking at the other, and both wishing the silence would end. It reminds Stiles of how he felt when taking Lydia to the Winter Formal, and that's what makes him speak up.

“I'm sorry. Gavin, I'm so, so sorry.

“Not just for how things ended, but... For everything, you know? And I'm really sorry for not being honest with you. But I want you to know that me not being completely honest isn't the same as me lying to you. I kept a lot of secrets, yes, and in hindsight that was really stupid of me, but I didn't lie.

“When I told you I'd never been in a relationship, or been kissed outside of party games, before you, it was true. I'd never even been on a real date before I came here.

“What I didn't tell you, but probably should have, was that there was someone before. We weren't together, or even friends with benefits or anything like that, we just had sex. It wasn't healthy, but I was just so tired, and he wanted me when no one else ever had.”

Having to tell his ex-boyfriend about the sex Stiles once had with someone else – that he'll never have with Gavin – along with repeated insurances that the firsts he'd claimed to have with Gavin actually **were** firsts is uncomfortable as hell. The same goes for having to bring up STIs.

Stiles knows he is clean, not just because of Deaton's assurances that werewolves don't carry deceases but because he actually got tested after leaving Beacon Hills (and after blowing Gavin, but he's not mentioning **that** ).

He still offers to get tested again, because Gavin shouldn't have to take Stiles's word on this. Not after everything.

He talks about how things got more complicated the longer they went on – about liking “the guy” less the more they slept together – and how he finally was so messed up his dad offered to leave everything and start over, and how he'd grabbed that offer like a lifeline.

Which it had been, really, because though there had been no physical threat, Stiles **had** been drowning.

It takes maybe 40 minutes for the topic to dry up, and conversation to die down. Stiles feels as if he's been through a fight – and isn't sure he wouldn't have preferred that – but also a bit more settled. Gavin doesn't seem to hate him. He's asked questions, and poked at the answers, and shown his displeasure with Stiles's secret-keeping, but he hasn't shown any actual anger. Disappointment, yes. Sadness, definitely. But no more than that.

Maybe it **will** be possible for them to go back to being friends.

But, as is becoming much too common, it doesn't end as smoothly as that. Because **of** **course** it doesn't.

“Do you want... We could try again, if you want?”

And there it is. The sad thing is that now that it's out in the open, Stiles isn't so sure about turning Gavin down any more. Because regardless of everything, he **did** fall in love with the boy in front of him, and that's not something you just get over. Or well, others might, but not Stiles. (Lydia Martin, anyone? Exactly.)

He's got every reason to not **want** to just “get over it” as well, because Gavin isn't just some unattainable dream that'll never live up to whatever virtues Stiles's fantasy and admiration will assign him. He's **real** , with virtues yes, but also flaws, and Stiles **knows** them, and him, and cares for him even more because of that.

At the same time, Stiles knows he can't just go back to the way things were. As much as he loved being with Gavin the way they were, he needs more. He needs **a lot** more. That's why walking away seemed like the only option, but now, faced with reality, Stiles's heart lurches and **wants** , and maybe, just maybe...

If there's a way they can both be happy, doesn't Stiles kind of owe Gavin to try? Doesn't he owe **himself** to try?

“I'm seeing someone.” And he realizes exactly how fucked up those words are a second too late, as Gavin's face falls, and scrambles for a save. “Not like that! A professional! I'm seeing a professional. A therapist. Because, you know, of how I'm kind of fucked up.

“Nah, don't try to deny it. It's true. If I wasn't fucked up, then what happened with us earlier wouldn't have, and neither would what happened back before I came here.”

He shrugs, because it is what it is, and finally Gavin nods. Good. That means that even if Gavin doesn't want to, he's aware of the problem.

“Anyway, I've been seeing the doc once or twice a week over the summer, and part of what we've been working on is helping me see things clearly. Making me actually think, not just jump into things, or react without considering the consequences. And one of those things was, well, **is** this. You and me.

“Look Gavin, I... As much as I'd love to say yes, and just go for it, just try and be us again... I can't. Not like that. The doc I've been seeing, she's helped me figure out quite a few things over the summer, and one thing I realized? I can't do casual.

“I'm not saying I'm looking for someone to get married to right now, at 18, because I'm not, but I guess... I guess I'm looking for someone who makes me think 'I could spend forever with this person'. Someone I want to get married to, or live in a partnership with.”

Maybe it's losing his mom the way he did. Maybe it's being surrounded by imprinted couples. Either way, Stiles has spent enough time taking apart himself this summer to realize that he's not going to be happy with something temporary. He wants something that will last – a lifetime preferably.

(No, that doesn't mean he wishes the imprint was different. He wants someone to choose him, and that's not what imprints are. Doesn't mean he isn't more than a little jealous though.)

“And I don't think that's you. Not because I don't care about you, or because I'm not in love with you, because I am, and I do, but...” He takes a deep breath and blurts it out: “Well, you and I have an expiration date, don't we?”

And saying that, well, it **hurts**. It's true, but truth never stopped anything from hurting.

“What?” There's hurt, and for the first time anger, in Gavin's voice, and Stiles can't help being a bit worried. Gavin has never given him reason to think he'd get violent, in any way, but. Appearances can be deceiving. _Just look at Allison, for a text book example._

“I didn't just spend all my time drooling over you this spring. I listened to you. I heard you talk about colleges, and you know what I noticed? They're **all** on the East Coast. Every single one of them on the other side of the country.

“And I don't know about you, but me? I can't do that. I just can't. I care about you, Gavin, so, so much, but I can't be in a relationship where I get to see you once or twice a semester and spend the rest of the time missing you. Now, if you can tell me there's even one college on your list, one you're seriously considering, where I could go visit you at least once a month...”

There's hope in those words, even if it's a small one, because regardless of what Stiles has been telling everyone – including himself – he doesn't really want to give up on Gavin. Not unless he has to.

Which he does. Gavin isn't saying anything, not yet, but his face says plenty, and that sliver of hope disappears. So, that's how it is then.

When Gavin finally breaks the silence, it's with more words none of them really want to hear.

“What about you then? You could get accepted to any of the colleges I'm looking at. You definitely have the grades, and there's a ton of options for you. And if there's nothing that fits, practically all of them are in towns with several schools.”

“I know. When we were together I looked into every single school you mentioned, Gavin, trying to find something that would fit. But the truth is, if I were to go to one of them? I wouldn't do it for me. It'd all be for you, and that wouldn't be good.

“I'd be miserable.” Because simply the thought of being that far away from his pack, not to mention Embry... It makes him sick to his stomach. As much as Stiles has told Jacob, and others, that he could simply walk away, he can't lie to himself. He's home, he's pack, and he **wants** to be.

“I'd hate myself for doing that, for putting myself in that position, and I'm afraid I'd come to resent you as well. I don't want that, Gavin. Not for either of us, but especially not for me. Not when I know that it'd fuck me up all over again.

“So, just as I can't ask you to stay here with me, I can't go with you.”

And there it is. The final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

Gavin has no more arguments, because Stiles has been too open, and too willing to try, to leave him any openings. Maybe if Stiles had just talked about being afraid of what it'd mean to move cross-country to be with your high school boyfriend there'd be some way to talk him out of it, but now?

Now that Stiles has admitted to thinking about the possibility, and doing the research, and what he thinks it'd mean to not just them, but to his mental health? Well. Case fucking closed, right?

Gavin doesn't back down all that gracefully though.

“But, if that's what you want, a permanentrelationship, then **why** did you try being with me at all? Why, when you had to have known this could happen?”

“Because of your laugh. God, Gavin, when you laugh... It's like to you there is no reason in the world not to laugh, and you made me feel the same way, just by being close to you. Don't you see how attractive that is?

“I heard you laugh, and saw that same laughter in your eyes, and I couldn't **not** want to be with you.”

Only, now that his head is clearer, Stiles knows that bringing Gavin into “the know” will kill that, because knowing about all the hidden things in the world – knowing about **Stiles's** world – also means knowing there is every reason not to laugh. And the thought of taking away Gavin's laugh, of depriving not only Gavin, but the rest of the world, that joy... Stiles can't be that selfish.

“I fell for you, and I wanted to be with you, and what I felt was so amazing I didn't think. But now that I do... What we want, it's too different. You want to go out into the world, and discover it, and find your place – and that's great. I love that you want to do that. It's just... That's not what **I** want. It's not what I **need**.

“I'm not going to go out and search for my place, because I've already found it.”

“And would that be in LaPush?” _With Embry_ hangs in the air, unsaid, and yeah, Stiles understands why Gavin wonders. He would too if their positions were reversed.

“I think so, yes. When I look into the future, I see myself living there. It's the first place where I've truly felt at home since my mom died.”

And that's a conversation killer, of course. Still, Stiles doesn't want to leave Gavin with the wrong impression.

“I'm not saying that because I think I'll end up in a relationship there, not with Embry, and not with any of the other guys I've made friends with. I'm saying it because I feel part of a family with them, and that's something I've been missing for years. It's something I crave, and now that I think I've found it... There's just no reason I could see that would make me give that up.

“I guess... I guess that person I'm hoping to find? They'd have to be someone who'd be willing to fit into the life I'm building for myself, who could find a place for themselves there, next to me.”

Once that's out there, there really isn't that much more to say. Gavin knows what he wants, and Stiles knows what **he** needs, and those two... Just won't mesh. Sure, it's possible that one day that'll change, but. Stiles isn't going to bet on that.

It is what it is, as much as he might want differently, and now they both have to live with that.

“Gavin? I can't be your boyfriend from across the country, but... I **can** be your friend. If you're willing, that is.”

It'll be hard, he knows that, especially at first but it's worth a shot. Gavin is definitely worth it. And as they part, awkward but determined, Stiles thinks that maybe he too is worth that shot.

 

_~ TBC ~_


	13. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 concluded part 1 of the storyarc for this fic. Part 2 starts with chapter 14. Meanwhile, have an interlude.  
> As always, I own nothing but a red hoodie and an overactive imagination.

“ What the hell, Derek! You told me things with Stiles were good, that I didn’t have to worry, that he’d come home. You told me! So why the fuck am I looking at an e-mail telling me he’s going to college in freaking  **Seattle** ? Huh?”

_something breaks_

“I trusted you. You told me nothing was wrong, that it was just a misunderstanding, that– You swore to me you hadn’t hurt him! And I was stupid enough to believe you, because why would my Alpha, **our** Alpha, hurt a member of the pack?”

_ripping sound_

“If I find out that you’ve been lying to me, that you **hurt** Stiles, then I swear to god I’m not above finding myself some wolf’s-bane bullets. That’s my best friend – my brother from long before we were pack – and there is **nothing** I won’t do for him.”

_deep breath_

“Just... You need to call me. And you better be prepared to be honest with me this time, Alpha or not, because I’m about done with this shit.”

_click_


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...
> 
> AN: There is some bi-phobic language/attitude covered in this part. This is not a reflection of my beliefs, but meant to portray a far too common occurrence.

Sorting things out with Gavin, and closing the door on the two of them, feels good. He aches a bit inside afterwards, but it's the good kind of ache, like when he's been running a race, or getting a massage. It's a healing ache, and it's long overdue.

Going back to school however... It's a mess. While Stiles has made an effort to be friendly and on good terms with his classmates, he's never gotten exactly close with any of them besides Gavin. Most of the people they'd hung out with as a couple are Gavin's friends first, and that leaves Stiles rather lonely.

Now, he can deal with lonely – especially since it's nowhere near as bad as Beacon Hills before he left – but the gossip does bother him. Some of it, at least.

One rumor says that he left Gavin for “one of those native guys”, while another says Gavin dumped him for cheating – again with one of the pack. There are a ton more, all of them versions of the same, all of them annoying. Gavin does an admirable job at trying to shut them up, and has some success, and Stiles just shuts up and deals.

But then there's the other crap.

Stiles's favorite rumors – and by “favorite” he means the ones making him want punch someone – are the ones having to do with him being bi. First there are girls whispering that Stiles broke up with Gavin because he got tired of “experimenting”, and that now he's going to date girls instead. As if they completely missed that Stiles actually did go on a date with a girl before he and Gavin got together. And that he chose Gavin instead, because Gavin made him feel something that girl didn't.

And then there's the rumor that makes Stiles see red. That Gavin dumped him for not having the guts to be out “properly”. As if being bisexual isn't a real orientation. No one repeats that to Stiles's face though, or close enough that he can identify the speaker. Not after Stiles grabs one especially annoying douche, presses him up against a locker, and calmly explains exactly how many ways he knows how to kill a person and that maybe being both offensive and uneducated is hazardous to ones health.

The gossip mostly die out after a few weeks though, both because Gavin and Stiles actually do try to be friends and because it's high school, meaning something else, more interesting, shows up.

It's good, because while Stiles can deal with being called a cheater, he's protective as fuck of his sexuality. He's heard too many digs about how being bi isn't real, or how it means you're a slut, and every other shitty comment out there, and well. Shutting people up on that matter would be worth a detention or twelve. Problem is, when your self-defense skills comes from running with wolves, and you've learned to go for the kill, letting go among defenseless human teens is a Really Bad Idea.

Detention he can take, thanks to Harris. Being suspended? Not so much. Getting arrested, well. He want to go to college, not jail. Also, it's a very, very good thing that Stiles isn't a 'wolf. Because while he's managing to hold himself back, and not get into fights, the truth is that if he had been a werewolf? There isn't a force in the universe that could have stopped him from shifting in school then, and possibly ripping someone's throat out.

But. Time passes, and people talk less, and Stiles manages to get through the first two months of senior year without putting anyone in the hospital for being an offensive dick. He'll take that as a win.

(Doctor Bianchi agrees.)

Autumn is a whirlwind of therapy and studying and college applications, of self-defense classes and pack, and above all else happiness. Things are running smoother than they have in years, and while Stiles knows periods like this tend to never last as long as he would wish he's also learned to savor every second of it. Holding on to happiness, and letting go of misery is one of the things the doc is trying to teach him, and Stiles tries.

It's how he wants to live.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

In October, once all his college applications are done and submitted, Stiles bites the sour apple and writes Scott. Back when they were twelve and couldn't imagine not being together they'd made a pact to go to college together, and be roommates (because **brothers** ) and now Stiles is going to break that.

He doesn't regret doing so, because it's what right for him – and not just because the college he and Scott had picked out at twelve was much too close to Beacon Hills and its pack – but disappointing Scott is not something that comes easy for him.

It goes... Well. It goes. Somewhat. Up until this point Stiles has sent Scott five emails and two postcards – one for Christmas, one for his birthday. The day of his initial email, and the day after, becomes a flurry of messages. After the ninth email from Scott – all progressively more upset – Stiles gives up. There is, after all, only so many ways he can type the same thing without going insane.

Words have never been something he and Scott have focused much on. Ever since the beginning a huge part of their communication has been through non-verbal means – touch, looks, tone, expressions, gestures... It's been a good thing, allowing them to communicate without either having to say things that are too painful for words. (The illness and death of Claudia Stilinski, while possibly the worst, is only the tip of the iceberg.)

But now? Now that habit is biting Stiles in the behind, because he can't do that, and he doesn't know how to do this without those clues.

In the end he gives in and calls. It's not the best solution, but it's a hell of a lot better than e-mail, because it'll give Scott something other than silent words to go on. It's not a decision Stiles makes easily, because he really doesn't want to be found and he's sure Scott's cell is at least monitored, if not outright bugged, but it **is** the best option. Well – it's the best option once his dad hands over a burner phone, that is.

He calls the next time he's in Seattle, hands sweaty and stomach doing loops. (It's a good thing he has a session with Dr Bianchi after. He'll need it.)

It's almost ridiculous how **happy** hearing Scott's voice makes him. It's almost enough to make Stiles reconsider staying in Washington for college. Almost, but not quite. He misses Scott, yes, but he can't go back to Beacon Hills. He doesn't **want to** go back, and since he has a choice? He's not going to. Not even for Scott.

What's also ridiculous is how much easier it is to explain himself to Scott this way. He's using the same words, pretty much, only now he's speaking them instead of typing them. It shouldn't make that much of a difference, but it does. It's not as good as talking in person, or even over Skype, but it does give Scott more cues to go on, which is something Stiles has noticed has become even more important after Scott's turning.

There are pauses and emphasis, there's underlying emotion... And there's Stiles's heartbeat in the background, which not only provides Scott with something to judge the truth of those words by, but also soothes him.

All together it works to convince Scott that no, Stiles really isn't going to come back, and yes, he really does think it's for the best. Because while “dude, Beacon Hills is the fucking Hellmouth, okay, and I so couldn't rock an eye-patch” isn't something that can really be conveyed in an email, it actually makes sense when it's two best friends talking to each other.

Scott keeps asking if Stiles leaving and changing his plans is because of the pack, and Stiles... He does that thing where he not quite lies, but definitely doesn't tell the whole truth. Because it **is** because of the pack, or more specifically because of its Alpha – luckily Scott doesn't ask if it's Derek's fault, not out loud anyway – but at the same time it's not. Yes, Stiles left because of Derek, and the pack, and he would happily stay away because of them. But in the end? Stiles made the choices he did for himself, because they will make him happy, not because of anyone else.

The Hale pack never made him feel safe, and home, and happy – not even while Scott was still part of it. That in combination with how there was always trouble in Beacon Hills, and how much better his life is now in every aspect except for missing Scott? That's exactly why Stiles needs to stay where he is.

When Stiles ends the call it hurts, more than he wants to admit. But endings always do, and even if Stiles is never ever giving Scott up, this **is** an ending. Not the end, not of them, not ever, but still an end.

Then again, it's also a beginning. And while beginnings can hurt just as endings do, they carry the potential for **everything**.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

He starts feeling uncomfortable during second period, and when he sits down for lunch he’s got almost a dozen texts to answer. Two of them are from Embry, with the rest spread out through the Pack. Stiles does his best to calm them, but still ends up with insurances that they’ll come running if he needs them and is made to promise to call if that need occurs.

It only gets worse during the afternoon, and during his last class of the day Stiles is about ready to crawl out of his skin. Luckily it’s Thursday, meaning he might be able to talk his dad into letting him skip the next day and leave for La Push. Sure, skipping class is bad, especially when you’re a senior and applying for scholarships, but John Stilinski will probably sign off on it – he's accepted Stiles's bond with Embry, and appreciates the good it does for his son.

The fact that Stiles is ahead in almost all his classes and can make up all of the theoretical work without effort helps. Once he hits the rez he’ll start calming down, he knows it, and even if Embry isn’t available Stiles will be more focused and get more work done in the hour after arriving than in five at home. He’s made friends in the pack, and with the imprints, and when Embry’s patrolling or working he usually stays at Sam’s with his wife and imprint Emily.

Besides, at least one wolf will find his way there once Stiles arrives. It's just how it works. After his breakdown (and breakup) at the beginning of summer, and even more after he flipped out on Paul, they all tend to worry. Stiles would be annoyed, probably, if not for the fact that he knows they have good reasons to be. Yes, he's better now, but he's not all the way. (He might never be, but that's another question.)

It’s just the way things work out that his last class of the day is Spanish, the one class he shares with his ex, and that Gavin has gotten into the habit of walking with him towards the parking lot, sharing small talk in an effort to get the very real friendship part of their failed relationship working again.

Stiles usually likes it, is grateful that Gavin's making the effort, but not today. Today he’s just too spaced out, and it shows. They haven’t even cleared the building by the time he loses the thread and has to ask “what?” for the fifth (he thinks) time.

Once he has a clear view of his car (the one replacing his beloved, but memory-tainted jeep) he understands why. Next to it is a sleek black Camaro, and leaning against it is a dark-haired, leather and jean clad man. Well. 'Wolf.

For the first time in over a year he’s looking at Derek Hale.

Fuck.

Stiles's first impulse is to back up and get back into the school, find a place to hide and then call for backup. It’s a good plan, or would be – if not for the fact that **he’s dealing with a werewolf**. Derek might not let it show, but he already knows that Stiles is there. Running isn’t actually an option. He can try, sure, but it won’t help. Derek will just hunt him down, and that won’t end well for anyone. It never does.

Stiles can deal with whatever Derek can dish out, but what he **can’t** deal with is collateral damage. That means he has to come up with another plan, and one that leaves the innocents out of it.

Good thing improvising is one of his strengths.

He turns to Gavin, who finally picked up on the fact that something is wrong, and hopes that his ex will show that brilliance that got Stiles hooked.

“Stiles? That guy over by your car, it kinda looks like he’s waiting for you. You know him?”

“Yeah... That would be my...eh...ex.” Stiles cringes internally, knowing that Gavin is fully aware of exactly how much of an overstatement that is. But, there's no way he's going to voice the truth about his “relationship” with Derek out loud, in public.

“I’m sorry, I did **not** know he was going to show up, but I should deal with this.”

Somewhere not here, with no innocents around, and preferably with back-up. Now he just needs a way to alert someone. If he can only find a way to make Gavin work with him...

“Should we call your dad?” Gavin's worried, for good reason, and part of Stiles wants to say yes. However, he doesn't want his dad to become collateral damage.

“No. Really, it's fine – I can do this. There's no need for dad to get involved. Not as my dad, and not as the sheriff.”

This is his chance though. He's got his back towards Derek, and Gavin's looking straight at him. Stiles takes a deep breath, stares hard into Gavin's eyes and then clearly mouths “call Embry”. A second's thought, and he adds “and Emily”.

Gavin stares back, making Stiles squirm, and then nods.

“Okay, yeah, if you think that's best. But, call me later tonight? Just so I know you're actually okay.” And **yes** , thank you.

“I will. Thanks.”

It's a risk, Stiles knows, but since he **also** knows Derek won’t let him make an unsupervised call, Gavin is his chance. His only chance. He gives Gavin a slightly shaky smile and a wave before walking over to his car. To Derek.

“Stiles.”

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

As if that's actually an answer. Of course, to Derek it is. Because everything should happen according to Derek's schedule, should follow his rules. As usual. Because he's the Alpha.

Only this time Stiles won't bow to Derek. Not ever again. Because Derek is not his friend, nor his lover, and he certainly isn't Stiles's Alpha. And it's time he learns exactly that.

 

_~ TBC ~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliff-hanger, sorry. And what's worse, this is the last of my pre-written chapters. From now on we're talking updates as I have the time to write. Hopefully the next chapter won't be too far away, since it's at 4+K at the moment.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read, so there may be mistakes (if so, pointing me towards them is much appreciated).  
> I'd also like to take the time to point out that sadly, updates for this won't be nearly as fast as some of you - and I! - would like. Currently I'm working up to 52 hours/week (with the occasional overtime on top of that) and I have added RL obligations as well, which means nowhere enough time and energy for writing. I'm going to try my best not to leave you hanging for too long though, but. No promises.

 

Stiles meets the Alpha's – because he knows, this isn't Derek, this is the **Alpha** – eyes without backing down, or flinching, or in any way submitting. There's a small part of him that wants to, Stiles notices, but it's very small. The desire to be in control of himself is bigger, and stronger, and Stiles feels relief flood his heart.

He's known he'd have to meet Derek again, sooner or later, and up until this very moment he'd been unsure of how he'd react. Now he knows. Now, he thinks, he also knows he's truly on the mend.

And that means Derek is in for a surprise.

Being broken the way he'd been, and reeling, had meant Stiles rarely stood up for himself against Derek, even before their...arrangement had begun. For others, yes, but not himself. He's learning to do so now though, and when he feels himself waver he knows he's got support.

Often just knowing that Embry, or any of the other pack members, or his dad, or Dr Bianchi for that matter, will have his back is all Stiles will need to be able to stand up for himself, and to deal with situations he'd rather not. Other times, like now, the knowledge that he only needs to hold out until someone comes to his aid does the trick.

It's armed with all this that Stiles is able to meet Derek's red-tinted glare, calm as a cucumber, and set his terms.

“You want to talk? Fine. Not here though.” Not that he expects Derek to be that stupid, but Stiles needs to maintain what control he can. “Dad should be at work for another couple of hours, so we can talk at the house. I need to swing by the store first and pick up some groceries, so why don’t you just tag along? I mean, you'd follow me anyway, I expect, so why don’t we just agree on it?”

His behavior is snide, and more rebellious that Derek approves of – more so than Derek had grown used to – and Stiles can see that it's not appreciated. But, what can Derek do? They're in public, and they both know that it won't take much for someone to call the police.

Once they reach the Stilinski house it'll be another story, of course, but. Stiles has ways to keep himself safe there too. (Or rather: he has more ways to keep himself safe at home, or even in his car, than he'll ever have in public. Because werewolves.)

 

It's a strange experience. Stiles has done this so many times he could practically get it done in his sleep. Bi-weekly grocery runs, with a long list pulled up on his phone and a two week menu in his head is not only practical but an ingrained habit, and saves so much time.

Walking through the grocery store with Derek Hale in tow adds a new dimension though, and Stiles just knows he's going to have to make another trip in a day or two to pick up forgotten things.

He still goes through the motions though, because a/ he's not going to let Derek take charge of his life again, b/ they need the groceries (and since Stiles is still planning on skipping school the next day to go to LaPush the shopping needs to happen now) and finally c/ every minute they spends somewhere not his house increases the chance of it not being empty when they gets there.

Being able to defend himself doesn't mean Stiles wants to, not if someone else can make it unnecessary.

The fact that the whole grocery shopping thing seems to annoy the hell out of Derek doesn't hurt either.

By the time they reach the Stilinski house Derek is seething. Oh, he's got his stone face on, but well. Stiles knows how to interpret just about every version of Derek Hale's blank face, knows how even the smallest difference, barely visible to any but the most observant, changes everything. He knows, because once he needed to.

He knows, because not that long ago missing those clues would enrage the Alpha and leave Stiles with a sore ass.

Now? Now he doesn't care, because Derek Hale is never ever treating him like that again. **No one** is. He is, well, kind of amused though.

With how much has changed the fact that Derek still acts the same barely seems believable. Stiles on the other hand... Honestly, walking next to a fuming Alpha doesn't really faze him much anymore. Back in Beacon Hills he'd have been scrambling for a way to placate the man, to defuse the situation. Portland-Stiles however just shrugs – internally, because he's not insane – and writes it off.

(And if he wonders, for a few seconds, about whether or not Derek's naked body still would be as lickable... Well. Teenage boy. Hormones. That's all there is to it. Okay?)

The whole situation really brings home exactly how much Stiles isn't Hale pack any longer. Sure, he's said it, repeatedly, but this is the first time he truly **feels** it. (Of course, it also hints rather strongly that he probably was pack much more back then than he's comfortable thinking about, but. Not thinking about that.)

 

As he stands in the kitchen packing away groceries, glowering Alpha by his side, Stiles allows himself a tiny smile and a moment of gratitude. To his dad, Dr Bianchi, and to his pack, for making him healthy enough to be able to do this. For giving him enough strength back to stand with his back straight and refuse to bow to his ex-Alpha's wishes. He still wants backup – but he can do without.

And that's progress. That's so, so much progress.

_And speaking of..._

“So, instead of scowling, why don't you actually use your words and tell me why you're here? Because I tried, but honestly, I'm having a hard time coming up with a reasonable explanation.”

“Why am I here? Are you serious, Stiles? Why wouldn't I be here? You **disappeared**. One day you just didn't show up at school, without warning anyone, and no one knew where you were. Your dad was gone too, calling in all kinds of favors to go on vacation with barely any notice at all. And then neither of you came back. I was sure one day we were going to find your dead bodies.

“You scared the hell out of Scott and his mom. We looked all over, but after the first couple of days we just hoped for closure. Then Scott told me your dad had resigned, and that your house was for sale, and I realized your disappearance didn't come out of the blue. Your dad planned this.”

Which is true. Still, nothing about this makes any sense.

“Why did you care?”

And wow. Stiles is used to saying stupid things – hello, lack of filter – but this? This is fucked up even for him. He just basically suggested Derek wouldn't give a shit if Stiles really had been dead instead of just moving away.

“I'm sorry. That was...insensitive of me. Stupid. Of course you cared if I was dead or not, just... I just don't understand why you would keep looking for me once you realized nothing was wrong, why you'd come track me down even. I mean, perfectly okay and not at all dead here.”

He can think of a few reasons, sure, but none of them make any sense either. It's not like Stiles, or his body, meant that much to Derek. He'd been replaceable, and they'd all known it. _Right?_

“Stiles. I'm your **Alpha**. Of course I was going to look for you. Of course I was going to come for you, to bring you back to your pack.”

Stiles winces, but bites down on his protest. Derek isn't his Alpha any longer, and won't ever be again, something Stiles is sure won't be well received. He's got his weapons, since he took advantage of the privacy of his car to hide a few things in his clothing. He can take care of himself pretty well, and then there's the pack. Still. Stiles has no idea if any of the pack could take Derek in a fight, on their own, and he's not willing to take any chances. One (or more) of the others should be here soon, and then Stiles can revisit the Alpha part.

There's something else he needs to address though.

“Bring me back? Like I'm what, lost property? A stray pet? Newsflash, Derek. No one is bringing me anywhere. I go where I please. And where I please to go? Is not Beacon Hills.

“I didn't disappear. I **moved**. Dad got a job offer, and we decided together that leaving Beacon Hills was the best thing for us. And it was. Honestly, it's the best thing to have happened to us since my mom died.”

While not the whole truth it's true enough that Derek's senses can't tell the difference. And wow, the way his face twists... It suddenly hits Stiles that maybe Derek hadn't realized that Stiles had left of his own free will. _Soooo, what? Did he think dad dragged me away, kicking and screaming?_

That just might be it, and if so, finding out the truth must have hit Derek like a bucket of ice water. It's not going to be the last one, Stiles thinks.

“Okay. I guess that explains a few things, but it really doesn't answer my question. Why are you here, Derek? Why did you come here now?”

Because it's been a year, and Stiles thinks that makes Derek's declaration of intent kind of weak.

“Scott called and left me a message.”

Stiles winces. Oh.

“He was screaming about how you'd emailed him about not coming back, and between the threats he let slip Seattle. That was the break I needed to find you. Like I said, the pack has been searching ever since you left, but your dad did a very good job at covering your trail. With this though...”

Stiles winces again, because that? Sounds as if the whole pack knows where he is now, and that's not something he wants. He can deal with Derek. The others? No thanks.

“Scott seems to think that you not coming back – you leaving in the first place even – is my fault. What did you tell him to make him think that?”

There's more than a hint of Alpha in Derek's voice, and his face is stern. Stiles isn't too concerned though, because again. Weapons, and a proper pack of his own that'll protect him if needed. He's good.

“I told him that Beacon Hills wasn't my home any longer. I told him I wasn't coming back – that I couldn't go back to living on the Hellmouth. You? Weren't really a part of the discussion.” The “you didn't rate” goes implied but judging by the way Derek's mouth tighten Stiles would say the message has been received. Good.

Because sure, Derek had a lot to do with Stiles leaving in the first place – not everything, not quite, but a **lot** – but when it came to his decision to not return? There Derek was barely a footnote.

“I–”

Derek breaks of whatever he was about to say, stiffens, and Stiles flexes his hands, preparing. The Alpha doesn't seem angry (well, angrier) so Stiles doesn't think he's about to be attacked. By Derek, that is. However, that doesn't mean there won't be an attack period, because as Stiles has painfully learned, the world is full of dangers.

Sure, Stiles hasn't seen action since coming to Port Angeles, but that could change in a heartbeat. For all he knows Derek could have dragged all kinds of trouble along with him.

(In fact, Stiles would be more surprised if he hasn't. It's **Derek Hale** , for fuck's sake.)

“What?”

“Someone just came inside. Not through the front door though.”

Derek reaches out, tries to pull Stiles behind him – for protection probably. Stiles isn't having any of that though. He's more than capable of protecting himself, and to be honest, being protected by Derek, being hidden behind Derek's body, doesn't make him feel that safe. Not when he doesn't know what Derek's truly doing here. So he pulls away, quickly, ignoring the way that makes Derek glower, and takes a defensive stance. He pulls out mountain ash from its hidden pocket in his sleeve, and the laced mace from his jeans, ready to defend himself – both against whoever **and** Derek.

It's all unnecessary in the end, because the “intruder” turns out to be Embry. Relieved, Stiles greats him with a smile and a long hug. Stiles extends the hug beyond what even his current frazzled state calls for, because he enjoys how Derek's hackles raises from it all. Embry wearing a shirt that smells strongly of Stiles (from being kept in a drawer in Stiles's room) doesn't lessen that any.

It's beautiful.

(Yes, Stiles can be a vindictive, petty little shit. It's just who he is.)

“Embry. This,” and Stiles lets go with one arm just so he can gesture behind him, “is Derek Hale. Apparently he felt we needed to talk, and decided to come up from Beacon Hills.”

That is all the information Embry needs to be wary. Sure, Stiles has edited out details of his life back before, but he knows that what he's shared is more than enough to make the protective instincts of the packs rise.

“Oh? He wants to talk, does he? And you're okay with this?” Translation: do you want me to throw him out?

Stiles shrugs, because while he's not too hot on the idea of all this he's still surprisingly okay with it. Maybe it's time to put these particular demons to rest. Closure, right? Good for the soul and everything, or so they say. And if he's going to do this, well. What better time than when he's got Embry there to watch his back?

The wolf in question clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable, and gives Stiles a searching look.

“Stiles? Do you want me to be here for this talk? I could walk a bit, keep a look-out.” _For Derek's pack, and for our own_ goes unsaid.

And no, he doesn’t. It’s not that he minds Embry listening, or knowing, not with how far they’ve come, but. There’s the mind-link with the pack. They all have their suspicions, he knows, and they’re not **too** far off, but. He’s not that sure he’s ready for all of them to **know**.

At the same time, they’re Pack. Not his, exactly, but as good as. Or maybe better. Him being Embry’s imprint makes his pack belong to Stiles, in a way, even if it doesn’t makes Stiles belong to them. It makes him important to them though – giving him all the benefits, while still leaving him with a sense of freedom.

“I don’t want **me** here for this talk, Em. Seriously. I just don’t know if I feel okay not having you here.”

And it’s not just for protection, as they both know; they've learned that Stiles functions better in the presence of Pack. Being with them works like some kind of supernatural Adderall, and gives Stiles an ability to focus that he's rarely experienced. So while no, he's not thrilled to be airing any kind of dirty laundry in front of Embry, the question is whether he can afford to lose any of his focus around the Alpha of Beacon Hills.

Especially when said Alpha is anything but happy. (He's thinking no.)

“Do you expect me to hurt you, Stiles? Kidnap you?”

There's **something** in Derek's voice, and Stiles briefly thinks it's hurt. Doesn't matter though, not really.

“No. Though honestly I don’t know how much of that is because of me having protection, how much is because of my dad and how much is about your moral compass. I just don’t know any more, Derek.”

And that's the sad, complicated truth. Stiles doesn't know.

On the upside? A year ago he'd have expected the kidnapping without hesitation. That's progress. On his side, and on Derek's. (Which is an interesting development, and something Stiles is bound to revisit when things have calmed down.)

“And do you think this is the kind of talk we should have in front of an audience?” Derek looks angry, and incredulous, and Stiles can hear the question continuing. _Do you want to talk about the supernatural in front of him?_ Which yeah, Stiles can understand. Werewolves really aren't a subject you're supposed to bring up in front of outsiders.

However, Embry really isn't an outsider, meaning Stiles has no problem talking about the supernatural in front of him. Especially considering Embry knows just about everything supe-related about Stiles's life. What he **does** have a problem with is the fact that they'll most likely venture into the territory of his god-damned sex life, and the mess that that is. Was. Embry already knows more than Stiles would normally be comfortable with, thanks to the Gavin incident and his nose. When it comes to suspicions, well, there are even more (even if they're staying suspicions only, since these days Stiles no longer just blurts out those kind of details).

So no, Stiles does **not** want. But he wants to be alone with Derek even less. After all, Stiles knows all to well exactly how fragile and weak he is in comparison to a werewolf. Sure, he knows how to defend himself, but that mostly involves killing or seriously injuring the other person. Since he's not really interested in doing either to Derek he's a bit hampered though.

He also knows how weak he's when it comes to Derek, and how good Derek is at exploiting that.

So, tough luck. Embry will be present, and they'll all suffer for it.

“Yeah, I do. If I'm doing this, then Embry stays. Besides, he doesn't count. He already knows.” Which is not a lie, but not the whole truth. Embry knows all about werewolves, a lot about Stiles's old pack and Derek, and nothing about the sex. Still, point made.

Storm clouds draw in over Derek's face. _Oh._ Stiles is used to Derek being able to pick out another 'wolf even in a crowd, and has been working on the assumption that he pegged Embry the second the other man stepped into the room. Maybe that's not how it is.

“He **knows**? So **that's** how it is?”

A deep breath, a tiny shoulder roll, and that brief look of intense concentration that Stiles has learned means Derek's refocusing on his anchor. Not good.

“You walked away from your pack.”

Derek speaks without infliction or emotion, doesn’t growl or scream or anything. He doesn’t even flash his eyes. That doesn't change anything. He’s furious. Stiles knows him too well to miss the signs. Really not good.

“You walked away from your pack, for this. For **him**?”

Oh yes. Furious. Once Stiles would have been halfway naked by now, trying to calm the Alpha, but now he just takes one small step closer to Embry. Derek notices, of course, and now his eyes **does** flash. Unfortunately for him, Stiles is just as angry, and his fury has had even longer to build than Derek's.

And if some of that anger is...redirected, is about Stiles deflecting and hiding? Well. It's an old truth, isn't it? Anger is easier than sadness, less paralyzing than fear. It's also much, much smarter right now than arousal – because that, even the memory of that, means giving Derek the upper hand. Stiles still remembers how Derek could get him going, and still feels a rising heat in his stomach at the thought of Derek's body on – in – him. That doesn't make it healthy, or something he's going to act on. Because he can't, he can't go there again, can't let himself get tangled up in that pain again. Not when he's gotten so far towards healing. So anger it is.

“Oh fuck you! 'Walked away from my pack'?” Stiles spits the words out. “You know as well as I do that that’s not it. At least you should know that, unless you're completely stupid. If I walked away from anything, it was from **you**. **Your** pack? Never entered the equation.” Because no matter what had been said, or implied, or how he’d acted, it had never felt like **his** pack. He’d always felt left out, unwanted, even before Scott had left. After... He doesn’t like to think about after. Either.

“They never gave a shit about me, not for me. They cared about keeping Scott around, and happy, and that meant that as long as he was around they had to be somewhat decent towards me. Once he left, that was gone. No, okay, Isaac still cared enough about Scott to want me alive, but the rest of them? They would have happily let me die.

“Oh, they were careful about it, because of you, but they weren't discreet in any way. As far as your betas were concerned my only value came from doing the research, so they wouldn't have to sacrifice any of their precious fun-time on that, and keeping you happy in bed. And they made it more than clear that I could easily be replaced in both cases.

“Just, out of curiosity, how long after I left did it take for Danny to offer his 'services'?”

Derek's ears pinken, and his mouth does that thing, and Stiles's brain makes the connection. Either Danny offered to warm Derek's bed before it'd even grown cold, metaphorically speaking, and Derek had accepted – or he'd offered well before Stiles even left.

Suddenly he doesn't want to know. (Because if Danny offered, and Derek kept fucking Stiles instead, then what does that **mean**?)

Back to redirection it is.

“But don’t you **dare** blame Embry. He had nothing to do with me leaving. That was all on you. I didn't even know he existed back then!

“So yeah Derek, I walked away because of you. Partially at least. But honestly? When push comes to shove, I walked away for **me** , just as I'm staying away for me. And the fact that I'm not coming back? That's for me as well.”

His words fall like blows, and it's obvious that Derek feels them more than any physical blow Stiles could have hoped to land. He flinches, and Stiles **relishes** it. In a physical fight Stiles will always be at a disadvantage, no matter how many weapons he carries, or how much training he revives. But when it comes to fighting with words... Oh, there Stiles excels. There Stiles **wins**.

He's going to leave Derek the same way the Alpha has left him so many times; hurting.

“Do you know what made me decide to leave? What finally tipped me over the edge?”

It’s mostly a rhetorical question; he doesn’t really expect Derek to have picked up on that. And just as he thought he doesn’t get an answer. Just the Alpha’s patented stone faced glare.

“There was a girl at school, asking me about the book I was reading. That was it. That was all she wanted, to know if the book was any good.

“I’d never seen her before, I didn't know her name, and today I couldn’t even tell you what she looked like, not even if my life depended on it. It was nothing. A blip in my life, barely even that. I probably wouldn’t even have remembered it an hour later if not for the fact that she was the first person to voluntarily talk to me in weeks.”

So, not quite true – Stiles would definitely have remembered that a pretty girl talked to him. He just wouldn’t have wanted to do anything about it, not with the way things were then with Derek.

“To you, and your pack, however it **was** something. Isaac told you, and you smelled her on me. Remember **that**? You cornered me outside of school, just so you could pick up her scent on me and verify Isaac's gossip. And then you made me pay for it.”

There's a low growling sound somewhere, and Stiles honestly doesn't know if it's Derek or Embry. If it's Derek, then, well. It is what it is. If it's Embry... Yeah. He's going to have to do so much damage control after this.

“I actually ended up regretting being nice to someone – do you at all realize how fucked up that is?”

That question too is mostly rhetorical, but Stiles does pick up a slight flinch in Derek's stone-face. _Huh_.

“I came home looking like a poster child for domestic abuse. I had bruises and bite marks all over my body, and only my face was completely free. I ached for days – that’s how hard you fucked me. For **talking** to someone. After that I decided I’d had enough and talked to dad. I didn’t mention you, as evidenced by the lack of bullets in your hide, but I told him enough. He brought up the offer of a new job, and three weeks later we left.

“End of story.”

And Stiles really does mean that. Leaving Beacon Hills **had** been the end of the story – of that story. Arriving in Port Angeles had started a new one, several new ones even, but those have nothing to do with this. Those aren't for Derek.

“I don't... I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Derek's trying for collected, casual, and unconcerned. He's...mostly succeeding, but Stiles picks up on a waver. It's not in Derek's words, or his voice, or his face, but it's there. Huh. He truly had no intention of hurting Stiles. Or at least, Derek doesn't **believe** he did. _Still..._

“But you did. I believe you, when you say you didn't mean to do so, and I know it's much too easy to hurt someone unintentionally, but the point remains: you hurt me, and I decided I wasn't going to take that anymore.

“I was tired, I was hurting, and I was so scared, and I just... I was tired of being scared and hurt, and I wanted to not be.”

There's a low grumbling sound in the background, and Stiles knows it's Embry. He's going to have to do **so** much damage control after this that the mere idea of it has him feeling weak. It is what it is though, and having Embry there – feeling him, solid and safe – makes it all worth it.

And he finds he means that in all the possible ways. Having Embry at his back makes having to share his dirty laundry okay. Having Embry as his imprint/brother/pack is worth leaving Beacon Hills. Having the packs, and everyone connected to them, makes even **why** he left Beacon Hills worth it.

In a way, having to relive all the old crap with Derek and the Hale pack is worth it, because Stiles is getting some much needed closure here. Dr Bianchi would be so proud.

“Why didn't you talk to me? I would have listened, Stiles. Not just on account of being your Alpha, and that's part of the 'job description' as you've called it, but because I should have known.

“If I hurt you, then didn't I deserve to know so that I could stop? And if you were scared, as your Alpha I should have known so that I could protect you. Even if it was from myself.”

The worst part of hearing that, Stiles thinks, is how earnest Derek sounds. It's as if he truly means every word. And isn't that a laugh and a half?

“Don't you think I thought about that? My life was derailing so fast I didn't even know where to start trying to fix things, but yeah, I thought about it. I wondered if maybe things would stop spinning so fast if I just could make you understand.

“But Derek? **Think** about it. Take the part where you were hurting me, for instance. Honestly? There was absolutely no reason for you **not** to know. You **saw** the bruises, Derek. You saw them, and you looked **pleased**. I figured it was another facet of your possessiveness, that you loved seeing your marks on me, and if that was the case, then what good would asking you to please stop be?

“As for that time after the girl in the library, talking to you wasn't even a valid option then. It was obvious that your behavior was all about teaching me a lesson, about showing me my place, and if it hurt? Well, I honestly though that was part of your plan. You had to have know that it'd hurt – me being only human and all – so why play into your hands and let you know you succeeded?”

Stiles stops for a few seconds, to draw some much needed breath and to try and remain calm.

“And then we have the part where I was scared. I considered talking to you about that as well. I spent a **lot** of time thinking about it in fact. Because you're right. I should have talked to you. The amount of nightmares I had made that pretty damned clear. I almost did, but... Only, not even **my** imagination could make those conversations come out okay.

“Because what scared me the most? You. You and those bite marks you were so fond of leaving. I kept thinking about the possibility that one day they wouldn’t be from **human** teeth, and that **terrified** me.”

He still has nightmares about it on occasion, but there's no need to mention that. Probably. Because Embry's looking like he's puzzling together a few things too many, and Derek's looking like he's been punched.

“You felt that way, and you didn't talk to me? Why, Stiles? Why on Earth wouldn't you talk to me about something that huge?”

“Because of the one thing that scared me more than you accidentally biting and turning me. Because of the possibility of you hearing that, and looking at me, weak and fragile and human, and deciding that giving me the Bite would be a perfect solution to all your Stiles-related problems.

“And as much as that scared me, I didn't want to bring it up. Because if you hadn't already come up with it on your own, then I sure as hell didn't want to give you the idea.”

Stiles swallows, tasting a hint of bile, not sure if it's real or just a memory of all the times he'd actually been sick thinking of this.

Still he walks over to the sink and gets himself a glass of water, hoping it'll help.

“I lost count of how many hours I spent trying to figure out a way to not turn, or die, if you should end up biting me. Because I did not want to be a werewolf.

“Maybe you would have been okay with hearing that. Maybe you would have felt it should be my decision, or heck, even that I wouldn't make a very good 'wolf. Because I don't think I would, you know. So maybe. But every time I thought about talking to you I remembered how you acted towards Scott in the beginning, and how much it bothered you when he didn't appreciate having been turned. 'The Bite's a gift', right? Well, it wouldn't have been for me.”

He closes his eyes, and tries to push down the feelings and memories that are being dragged up. They really, really aren't good ones.

He's spent way too much time pondering what would have happened if he'd taken the Bite, and turned, becoming Derek's beta. (He's spent even more time trying not to think about the Bite being forced on him, or becoming Peter's beta.) Somehow he suspects that becoming a werewolf wouldn't have cured his attention disorder. Yes, it had cured Scott, and Erica, but. Asthma and epilepsy were both physical issues. What **he** has isn't, and the Bite “curing” **that**? Stiles really, really doesn't think so.

Stiles has never let on, not to Scott and not to his dad, exactly how scared he was in the beginning. How often he'd been afraid that Scott would lose control completely and kill him. How afraid he'd been that **he** would end up Bitten, that he **would** lose control, and that he would end up killing his dad.

When push comes to shove that is the foundation of his “Stiles does not want to be a werewolf” stance. It's not, he thinks, something Derek has ever had to consider.

“Maybe the Bite is a gift to some. Maybe it was for Scott, even if he didn't want to admit it. It did give him a lot. But me? No.

“I would have made a **lousy** werewolf. Not just because I didn't want to be one, but because of my messed up brain. I have an attention disorder, okay, which is a neurological malfunction. The Bite cures asthma, and epilepsy, and god knows what else, but brains? I don't think so. Not when I know that even after she turned Erica still had epilepsy, only being a werewolf meant her body healed any attacks before she could even notice. Usually at least.”

Because he remembers. He remembers the attack Erica had in the library, just as he remembers how scared and vulnerable she'd been once she'd realized her change did not, in fact, make her invincible.

“In order to get rid of my disorder you'd have to rewrite my brain, and I simply don't think that's possible.

“So. Biting me would have either given you a dead teenager, or a werewolf who couldn't focus properly and who has impulsivity. I would have been a **menace** – a danger to everyone I cared about. Chances are that it would only have taken me a single full moon to run to the Argents, asking to be put down. Because I would have, without hesitation, if I'd ended up hurting someone. And if that someone had been my dad? Just, no.”

He looks straight into Derek's eyes as he says this, gaze never wavering, heartbeat steady, and is rewarded with a nod. Derek understands. It's **family** , and Stiles knows exactly how important that is to Derek. Of course, what Stiles is about to say next is likely to shatter this tentative peace completely.

“And then, after all that, I thought about having a conversation with you about school. Because sure, Junior year might only just have begun, but I was already counting down until college. Only just thinking about that conversation gave me a panic attack.”

“Why? Why would school, out of everything, be such a horrible topic? I don't understand.”

“Because I was scared out of my head that you wouldn't let me go.”

And **there** it is, that red-tinted glare.

“Of course I wouldn't have stopped you! School's important, and I always knew I'd have to deal with college since all of you were so young. We would have worked something out – you wouldn’t have been the only pack member to go, remember? If I'd know you worried I would have talked to you myself. I just didn’t think it would be an issue, not since Scott had already told me how the two of you had made your plans years ago.

“So no. You not being able to go to college was never an option. Never. Yes, it would have been tough on the pack for a few years, but we would have gotten through it until you came home again.”

And Stiles just shakes his head. Because as much as Derek seems to have thought things through, for every solution he seems to think he has there's just as many things he's missing.

“But that's kind of the point. I wasn't going to follow that plan. Yes, Scott and I picked out a college years ago, together, but things have changed since then. **I** have changed. And my main criteria for school stopped being 'can Scott get accepted?' a long time ago.

“I was looking at other schools – at all of them, all over – and every time I did it became more an more obvious that I wasn't staying instate. Also, you just said it yourself: you would have expected me to come back. To come 'home'. Only, it felt more and more like once I got out, I wouldn't be coming back again.

“And now I know I wouldn't have. Just as I won't now. Beacon Hills isn’t my home any longer. I have absolutely nothing left for me there.”

He ignores Derek’s growl, just as he ignores the flashing eyes and the lengthening claws. He’s just calling it as he sees it, and no amount of Alpha-ness is going to change how he feels. Chances are that that indifference is exactly what’s setting Derek off.

“My dad is here, Embry is here,” _my pack is here_ “I have more friends here than I ever did there, **and** there’s a great school just next door.

“And even if none of that was true? I’m **happy** here. I'm happy in a way I haven't been in years. Moving here was the best thing that's happened to me since my mom died. This is my home now and I have no plans on leaving.”

Saying the words feels freeing. Yes, he's said as much before, but not like this. Not all at once, and not this straightforward. It's liberating, and it feels good.

“And this is another reason I didn't want to be a werewolf, okay? Because I remember how Peter could make Scott do all these things he didn't want. And I looked at you, and I wondered exactly how much you could make me do that I didn't want if I turned. Peter almost made Scott – Scott of all people! – kill someone. You being able to stop me from going away to the school I wanted, and coming back if I didn't want to, felt like nothing in comparison.

“The truth was that if you’d bitten me and I’d turned you would have been my Alpha,” he ignores Derek’s growl that he already **had been** Stiles’s Alpha, that he **is** Stiles's Alpha “and that would have meant you could control me. Every time I thought about telling you I wanted to go away to college I ended up screaming myself awake from nightmares of you giving me the Bite just so you could stop me from leaving.”

Derek bends his neck – just a fraction, sure, but enough for Stiles to notice – and takes a deep breath.

“I want you to know that I wouldn't force the Bite on you. I don't know if it helps, but... I would **never** do that to you. I don't want to be the kind of Alpha Peter was, turning people against their will. Also, I don't believe in forcing my pack to do things they wouldn't otherwise.”

The words are said in a low voice, as if forced through clenched jaws, but they sound sincere. Stiles finds he has a hard time trusting the last part, but the one about not forcing the Bite on him? That he believes, and hearing it makes him relax slightly.

“Thanks. That actually does help. I mean, no, it doesn't go back in time and erase the nightmares, but I think it'll keep me from having new ones.”

“That's... That's good.”

Derek looks a little like he's in pain – the way he usually does when dealing with something that has to do with feelings – and oh fuck, this isn't over yet, is it?

“Also, I... I need you to know that I'm sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you, or make you feel unsafe, and I'm sorry that you felt that way about the rest of the pack. I didn't realize, and I should have. I should have stopped it – no, I should have made sure it never happened. None of that is not how pack is supposed to be.

“I can't change any of it, and we both know that, but I swear to you that things will be different when you come back.

And wait, **what**? When he comes back? Has Derek gone insane? It's pretty damned obvious from the earnest way Derek looks at him that he means it, and that, that's... Just, no. It makes Stiles see any and all goodwill he's begun to harbor for Derek go out the metaphorical window, along with his hope that the man had actually understood any of what Stiles has been saying.

Has Derek not been listening at all? Because Stiles has pointed out like, half a dozen times now, that he doesn't see Beacon Hills as home any longer, and that he has no plans on going back there. At the same time, it's obvious from the apology and the reassurances that Derek did listen, at least to some of it. So what? Selective hearing loss is a thing now?

Embry's tense behind him, and clearly not happy from the rumble he lets out, but Stiles.. Oh, Stiles is furious.

“What the hell are you talking about? When I come back? I'm **not**. Not ever, Derek. I'm **done** with Beacon Hills.”

He expects to see flashing red eyes, maybe even some clenched fists and lengthening claws. He **definitely** expect some version of “do as I say, because I'm the Alpha”.

That's not what he gets though.

“I get that it's not what you were planning, and that it's going to be hard on you. I do. But it's the only way – I can't protect you like this, with you here.”

 

 

“Yeah? Well, consider this: **fuck you**. I don't need you to protect me, Derek. I can care of myself.”

Not that he's going to have to, what with two packs of ginormous werewolves to look after him, but. He's capable.

“Stiles... I know you're more than capable of defending yourself with your knives, okay? I was the one who taught you to use them after all – hell, I was the one who gave them to you.)

And yeah, Stiles remembers. (He even remembers how warm inside the gift made him feel, but. That's neither here nor there.) Of course, he also remembers spending hours training on his own, with the help of youtube tutorials, without letting Derek know. Just in case he ever ended up needing to defend himself against Derek himself.

“I trained you to keep yourself alive long enough for backup to arrive – for one of the pack to come to your aid. But you were never meant to fight alone, and you know – you **have** to know – that what I taught you isn't enough for that. To take on a werewolf, to kill one if needed? The only humans who ever go up against us with some rate of success are Hunters, and they train for years, plus rely heavily on weapons.”

And yeah, Derek's got a point. Doesn't mean that Stiles is going to fold.

“So? Maybe I got better. Maybe I've kept training, and maybe you have no real idea of what I can do. And maybe I don't need your help – maybe I have all the backup I want and need already.

“I'm not fragile. I'm not weak. And I definitely don't need you to protect me.”

“I know you're not weak, Stiles. You've shown that time and time again. But when it comes to this you're wrong – you do need me to protect you now, and for that to happen I need you to come back home.”

Stiles ignores the way Derek refers to Beacon Hills as “home” because debating that really isn't a priority right now. He can shatter Derek's delusions later. For now, he needs answers.

“What the fuck did you do? Because I've been safe here, like, perfectly safe for a year, and somehow five minutes after you show up I'm supposedly in mortal danger? So tell me, what did you do, and who the hell did you lead to my door?”

“I didn't do anything!”

Stiles directs his best “bitch, please” glare Derek's way, and is rewarded with slightly pink ears.

“I didn't, not this time. Not when it comes to this. You have been involved in enough pack business to make your own share of enemies, you know.”

Aaaand... That's fair. Only something tells Stiles it's not quite that easy.

“Yeah, but none of them know where to find me. And honestly, I don't think there's anyone I pissed off enough for them to hunt me down when they have a perfectly good target in the pack back in Beacon Hills. So why exactly is it you think I should be worried?”

Derek's quiet for a while, like he's weighing his options, considering how honest to be – how many half-truths he can get away with. The answer, of course, is “none” but Stiles isn't sure that Derek has understood that. Watching Derek tells him something more though – it tells him that Derek truly believes that whatever the threat is it's real, and that it poses a danger to Stiles. That's...unfortunate, to say the very least. But forewarned is forearmed, and Stiles is not without resources.

“It's Aiden. Just like it's been for over a year now.”

And that, that was not what Stiles was expecting. He huffs out a laugh, and shakes his head – partly out of relief, partly to calm Embry – and Derek snaps.

“You need to take this seriously! Just because you've managed to stay under the radar so far doesn't mean squat, okay? Aiden is an Alpha, Stiles, and unless he's created one, he's an Alpha without a pack. He's lost everything, and you helped that come true.”

All of this is true, yes, but it's not the whole truth, a fact for which Stiles is very grateful.

“Aiden isn't going to come after me.”

“Since when are you this naïve, Stiles? Of course he is. He blames you just as much for Ethan's death as he does me, and he swore he'd get us both back for it. He wants us dead. But he's going to go for you first, because he knows that way he can torture me more. Ethan and Aiden were more than pack, more than twins – they shared everything, one being in two bodies. Aiden **not** coming after us is like if Peter hadn't gone after Kate when he woke up.

“And I know you think you can defend yourself, and that your dad will back you up, but Stiles, Aiden will go straight through him. He will kill everyone who stands in his way, and maybe even if they don't. Killing your dad would hurt you, right? And that means Aiden's revenge gets sweeter. He'll kill your friends too,” and Derek glances to the side, where Embry's standing, not happy with him but gladly using him to make a point.

It's a good point too, and under different circumstances Stiles would listen. Too bad for Derek there are things he doesn't know though.

“Aiden's not going to come after me,” and he speaks right over Derek's immediate protests, “because he already did, and now he's dead.”

Derek's eyes instantly flick towards Embry, and Stiles huffs, because **really**? Yes, Embry's much bigger than Stiles, and obviously he's more likely to be capable kill a werewolf, what with the whole being one himself, but. First of all, Derek still hasn't figured that one out. Second, Stiles has skills, okay, and is more than capable.

But then again, Derek (and just about every single werewolf in Beacon Hills for that matter) missing that is kind of a running theme.

“Not him. And before you go there, not my dad either. Aiden's dead, because he came after me, and **I** killed him.”

Derek looks at him, in a strange way, like he doesn't know what to believe. But it's not Derek's reaction that's important. Once they're done, Derek **will** leave – whether he wants to or not – and his opinion on Stiles's abilities to commit murder will be just as relevant as he is. Embry however will stay (Stiles hopes) and what **he** thinks matters. A lot. So Stiles twists his head a little, just enough to meet his wolf's eyes.

The acceptance in them makes him want to cry.

He doesn't though. Instead he turns back to stare down his former Alpha, who still doesn't seem to know what to think.

“It was... oh, two, maybe three weeks after Ethan died. I was heading home from your place, and stopped for gas on the way. I heard something, turned around, and there Aiden was, coming straight at me. Maybe that sound I heard was him messing up, or maybe it was deliberate, him wanting me to see him come and know I was about to die.”

Or, Stiles thinks, it was his magic warning him. He suspects that's what it was, just as it was with Matt, but he's not going to say that out loud. Not when he doesn't know what mentioning the magic he possesses (as little as it is) will do to Derek.

“Either way it doesn't matter. What does matter is that I was so on edge that just that tiny sound had me reaching for my mace at once. By the time I saw him it was already in my hand, which gave me just enough time to spray him straight in the face.”

“You **maced** him? A werewolf? And you were expecting that to **work**?”

“It was laced with wolf's-bane, so yeah, I figured it'd work. Besides, I didn't have my knives on me,” because Derek had hated it when Stiles wore his blades when coming to his bed, “and I didn't exactly have that much else to choose from.

“And it **did** work. I hit him in the eyes, and when he went down I circled him with mountain ash. At first I wasn't sure what to do, but it became pretty damned obvious that Aiden wasn't going to give up trying to kill me just because he failed that time. He was choking on air, and still used what he had to threaten me.

“So, I took my bat and smashed his head in.”

It's strange, but saying that, remembering that, doesn't make Stiles feel guilty. It never has. He carried the guilt over Ethan dying for so long, when it wasn't ever actually on him, but Aiden? Never. It had been kill or be killed, and Stiles has always known it.

“We looked all over for Aiden, not just back then, but ever since. We never found a trace. And now you're claiming he's dead?”

Derek looks incredulous, like five seconds away from calling Stiles a liar, and yeah. He is. Just not about this. Not about much these days – unless it's to protect himself and those he loves.

“Why didn't you tell us?”

“Tell you I killed someone? Why on Earth would I? Telling someone meant it could get out, okay, and I didn't need to paint a bigger target on my back. You think Kali and Deucalion would have left me alone if they'd found out? Which they would have, and you know it. Secrets like that tend to come out when shared, especially when shared with a pack of blabbermouths.

“Besides, as I said, it's not like your pack liked me. In fact, if it wasn't such a damned cliché I would say they'd have been happy to throw me to the wolves. No way was I going to give them that kind of ammo.”

Just the thought makes shivers run down Stiles's back. Being Derek's bedwarmer might have kept the betas from straight out attacking him, but given an opening like that? The things they could have done with it... Oh, it would have been bad.

“You should have come to me. I would have helped you.”

Stiles only just bites back the laughter that imagery causes.

“Yeah, how about no. Look, I know, you were the Alpha and all that, but seriously? When it comes to body disposal? Your track record was **not** all that impressive. Also, again. Ammo. I didn't want anyone to have that power over me. Not when I was more than capable of dealing with it myself.”

Because he was. Is. Not only because of a lifetime of snooping through his dad's case files, or years of falling down one internet rabbit hole after the other, but because he'd actively sought out the information. Once it had been clear that they'd probably have to kill the mysterious rogue Alpha, and then get rid of the body, Stiles had taken it upon himself to research the best ways how to do so.

Bad enough that they might have to kill someone, but to get caught? Not acceptable.

It hadn't been needed in the end, since Derek had done so (badly) himself, but. Stiles hadn't forgotten how to. He'd never allowed himself to forget.

So he'd rolled Aiden's body in a tarp, dragged it into the back of his jeep, and driven out of town. After a few stops for supplies he'd stopped in a forest clearing about an hour out of Beacon Hills and burned the body, feeding the fire with wood from a rowan tree.

Once the flames had died down he'd taken out his bat again, smashing bone into the smallest pieces he could manage, using belief and need to power it beyond what should be possible. And then he'd lit the fire again, this time putting his bat on top.

Afterwards he'd divided the ashes and bone shards into three piles, burying two in different locations, even going as far as to bury a dead animal (roadkill) on top of the ashes, while dropping the last third into a stream.

He'd gotten rid of everything connecting him to Aiden's body afterwards; the clothes he'd been wearing, the tarp he'd rolled the body in, the wire saw he'd used for the rowan, the sheet of corrugated metal he'd burned the body on... Everything had gone. And then Stiles had moved on, and basically never thought about it again unless forced to.

It's a side to Stiles he really doesn't think Derek understands. He's not a killer, not really, but there's very little he won't do to protect the ones he love. Keeping himself alive, even if it means killing an attacker, so not to hurt his father is, not easy, no, but very doable.

Judging by the look in Derek's eyes he might be beginning to understand now though.

“Anyway. Aiden's dead. Threat eliminated. Meaning there's absolutely no need for me to back to Beacon Hills and be 'protected'. Not unless you've led some other asshole with a grudge straight to my door?”

Because wouldn't **that** just be awesome?

“No... No. I haven't told anyone about finding you, not even the pack, and I wasn't followed. But Stiles, that doesn't mean no one else will find you. We've made a number of enemies, and as far as they're concerned you being separated from the pack makes you an easier target. I'm not going to advertise where you are, but these things do have a tendency to get out.

“Tracking you down was only hard because I had limited time. Someone who can spend the time they want chasing you down? They'll find you, sooner or later. Your scent hasn't changed that much – I knew I was in the right place the minute I got out of my car.

“Plus there's always Scott.”

“Scott's not going to tell anyone. No, shut up, he **isn't**. Look, I know Scott a lot better than you do, and sure, he can be a bit oblivious at time, I'll give you that. But he's also loyal as fuck, and there's no way he'd sell me out. Letting a clue slip when talking to you wasn't great, no, but he doesn't think he should have to be careful around you. You're still his Alpha, okay, and that means he trusts you to not let any harm come to his loved ones. Which includes me.

“So no, no one else is going to find me through Scott.”

Stiles fully believes Scott will shut up – or at least that he will after the talking to Stiles intends to give him as soon as Derek's gone. So his heart stays steady, as does his eyes as they meet Derek's, and there's a calm to him he's lacked and wanted for this whole confrontation. He's shot Derek down, and he's done so in a way Derek really can't refute.

It makes waiting to see what the other man's next move will be rather interesting.

But as it turns out, the next move isn't Derek's.

Both 'wolves still, turn and focus on something far away before speaking at the same time.

“Someone's here.”

“Pretty sure Jake's here, Stiles.”

Derek turns again.

“Jake?”

Stiles looks at Derek, long and hard and calculating. He's not above getting another dig in – a final parting gift, so to speak, he thinks. This is going to be interesting.

“My Alpha” Stiles answers. Then he steps back and waits for the explosion.

 

_**~ TBC ~** _


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than I'd like, but. This is becoming the longest day (in all ways) for Stiles...

 Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...

 

**...As Stupid Does**

**part 3 of the Stupid ‘verse**

**12/?**

 

“ _My Alpha” Stiles answers. Then he steps back and waits for the explosion._

 

Derek just stands there, staring at Stiles. It looks like he's processing. Seconds, and minutes, tick by and the explosion Stiles was expecting doesn't come, which well. That's a surprise.

Stiles is still trying to decide if it's a good one or a bad one when it does come.

Good or bad, it's not the kind of explosion Stiles had expected though. It's Derek taking two quick steps forward and then retreating immediately, but with Stiles in his arms. Once they're both out of Embry's reach and in a corner Derek lets go and steps away – again, not what Stiles would have expected – placing himself between Stiles and the rest of the room.

It doesn't feel threatening though. It feels more like protection, and the way Derek holds his body (like a shield, ready to intercept everything and everyone) strengthens that impression. It confuses the hell out of Stiles.

But, since there doesn't seem to be a threat he stays calm, and doesn't try to move away. That in turns calms Embry down a bit, which makes Stiles very, very happy. He loves this kitchen okay, and **really** doesn't want to think about replacing it. Embry's still shaking though, and Stiles hopes that Jake will be calmer when he walks in.

He's got some mountain ash, yes, but that only works on Derek, and only trapping one of them... Yeah, that'll end well. Sure.

Plus, looking at Derek Stiles wants to say he's not a danger to Stiles. Not right now at least.

Oh, he's dangerous as hell – just not to Stiles. Give him a target though, and Derek will show exactly how dangerous he can be.

Now, most days Stiles can live with that. As long, that is, as said target isn't Stiles, or someone he cares about. And that's the problem right now. **He** might not be a target, but he's increasingly afraid that Embry or Jake might be.

“Is that how it is? Is that why he's here with you? Were you forced? Did they threaten you? Threaten your dad? Is that why you're suddenly staying here instead of going to go to college with Scott? Did **he** drag you into this?”

It's obvious that by “he” Derek means Embry, and while Stiles can't say for sure, it sounds like Derek's anger is on Stiles's behalf. It sounds like he's being protective. Stiles still doesn't like being Alpha'd, not even by Jake who Stiles recognizes as his **actual** Alpha these days, but, well. The possibility of Derek going Alpha out of concern for Stiles does something to him. Something soft.

So it turns out he's not entirely cold when it comes to this man who's shared his body and saved his life. Sue him. It'll get you practically nothing – except for on the bad side of (at least) two police departments and two wolf packs.

Not something most people would recommend.

Still. Stiles might appreciate the concern, and to a certain degree even the protection, but that doesn't mean he's going to allow such blatant misconceptions about his pack. Because by the sounds of it? Derek seems to thinks Embry raped him. And if he's not going to let anyone call **Derek** a rapist, then fuck if he's going to allow even a hint of that when it comes to the wolf who **hasn't** touched him sexually.

“No! No one here has forced me into anything! Okay? **No one**. Not Embry, not Jake, and not any of the others. I don't appreciate you making that kind of accusations towards my pack, Derek.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to believe then? That you what? Volunteered? Happily agreed to something you just told me you never wanted, that you were terrified of?”

And wait...

“You think they turned me.” It's not a question, but Derek still nods in answer. “Are you completely **nuts**? Aren't you the one always telling the others to use their senses? You sniffed me out the second you got into town – don't even pretend you didn't, I know you – so shouldn't you be able to tell that I'm still human?”

Stiles is angry – yet at the same time he's relieved. Having someone think him being in a pack means he's been turned is tons better than being thought of as having been raped. He really, really doesn't like it when people think he's been raped.

“You smell different. Not enough for me to not recognize your scent, but different. There's something animal about it now that wasn't there before, not even when you spent most of the time with the pack – or... Or with me.” _Not even when you fucked me, you mean._ “But it's possible to mask scents. Just because I didn't teach you how to do it doesn't mean you didn't figure it out. You're clever, Stiles – figuring things out is what you **do**. Remember? Besides, it's not like I have any way of knowing what your new pack” he spits the words out “has taught you.”

Which yeah, he has a point. If he had been bitten Stiles would want to know all about hiding what he was, just in case some new asshole like Deucalion was to show up. Especially considering the fact that he spends most of his time separated from his pack, and therefor without protection and backup.

Having a point doesn't make him right though, and Stiles spares no time in letting Derek know.

“It's possible to be in a pack and stay human. Shouldn't you know that? After all, you insisted on me being pack, didn't you, and I was human then as well.”

Derek looks so relieved, and it's clear that he can't muster up any kind of anger right then.

“Not all packs accept humans. Not unless they were born into it, and even then they want them to take the Bite. So yes, theoretically humans can be pack. In reality? They rarely are.”

And that makes sense. Twisted and ugly sense, yes, but still.

“While that might be true,” and both Stiles and Derek twist to look at Jake, who has somehow managed to walk into the room without Derek reacting, “I resent the implication that we would do anything to hurt Stiles.

“I don't know how things work in **your** pack, but here Stiles is a loved and respected member of the pack, and him being purely human has nothing to do with anything.”

Sometimes Stiles hates how big Jake is. It makes him feel small, and vulnerable, and doesn't allow him even the illusion of being able to defend himself physically should he need to. But right now? He loves it.

Derek is not a small man. But Jake? Jake is a giant. He's close to seven feet, and has the body mass – and muscle – to match. He dwarfs Derek, and to see this sends thrills through Stiles's body. Let Derek be the one to know what it's like to feel small for once.

Yeah, Stiles and his feelings are a conflicting mess right now. Because on one hand Stiles is enjoying the sight of Derek dwarfed and defensive way too much, but on the other... On the other he is remembering. Seeing Derek's reaction to Stiles possibly being turned against his wishes, and his willingness to protect Stiles – even against another Alpha – well, it brings back memories of all the other times Derek has done exactly that.

Strongest of all those memories is the one from the hospital, where Derek crawled through broken crass to protect Stiles against Peter – Peter, who had been his only living family and technically his Alpha. And here Derek is, ready to do the same all over again, even though Stiles has been nothing but hostile since laying eyes on him.

That kind of thing, Stiles muses, probably should earn a guy some leeway.

It's just, he doesn't understand. The Derek he'd last seen wouldn't have done that. The Derek he'd last seen had left bruises and bite marks, had left Stiles aching and panicking, desperate to get away. This Derek... This Derek is nothing like the Alpha Stiles ran from. He's softer now – or at least so it seems. He reminds Stiles more of the Derek he'd first met. It's almost like traveling back in time.

And that thought is what hits the breaks on Stiles's overheated brain. Back when he first met Doctor Bianchi she told him that an Alpha as unanchored as Derek was could be negatively influenced by their pack, and he'd accepted that theory. It had fit, after all, turning all the broken up pieces into a somewhat whole picture. And with that in mind, if Derek has reverted to his old self? Then something has to have happened. Something big.

It can't be Scott returning, because he would have told Stiles that. There aren't that many more things Stiles can imagine, not that fits the evidence of Derek wanting Stiles to return to Beacon Hills. There are even fewer reasons Stiles's brain can come up with that are good.

“Did something happen back in Beacon Hills? With the pack I mean? Fuck, did you guys kill Peter again?” Because to Stiles's mind killing Peter would not just be a reason to celebrate, it would also be a perfect explanation for Derek's changed behavior.

He hears both Jake and Embry mutter in the background, and catches the word “again?” but doesn't care. His focus is completely on Derek.

“No, we didn't kill Peter again!”

And maybe they didn't. Stiles is willing to take Derek's word for that at least. But **something** happened, something **has** to have happened, because Derek has changed. Or changed back. Either way. Change.

He remembers what Dr Bianchi's told him about the bond between pack and Alpha, and how it can influence either in both good and bad ways. He remembers the two of them agreeing that chances are this is what happened with Derek. So, if they were right, then these chances should also be because of the pack. No more Peter had been the obvious solution (and not just because Stiles never wants to see him again) but if it's not that, then what?

“Okay. Okay, I'm going to take your word for that. But... Something happened to you – to the pack – didn't it? And I'd like to know what it is. I think I **need** to know what it is.”

Derek hesitates, but his eyes aren't on Stiles, they're on Embry and Jake, and yeah, he should have remembered this. Derek hates giving up information to people he doesn't know, or trust, and here Stiles is, asking him to do that very thing.

“Please?”

“I... My sister. My little sister, Cora. She was the same age as you, but I don't think you knew her? Anyway. She's alive.”

And **that** , Stiles had not expected. It's like being dunked into ice-water, and Stiles is left wanting to gasp for air. Another Hale had survived the fire?

“ **How**?”

“We're not really sure. She was home, and all she remembers is flames, and fear, and then running. Next thing she knows she was in a hotel room, two counties over, with a couple of wolves on vacation. They had gone for a run in the woods, found her passed out, stinking of smoke and wolf's-bane, and took her with them.

“She was delirious for days, and they didn't get much out of her. By the time they managed to puzzle out where she came from Laura and I had left the state and gone underground, and Peter was in the nursing home. The sheriff back then kept things hush-hush about me and Laura, not officially confirming that anyone other than Peter had survived, so they wouldn't have known to look for us then.

“They thought Cora was alone in the world, that the rest of her pack had been wiped out, and so they brought her back home with them, to Brazil. I guess that's why Laura didn't feel her through the packbonds, not enough to realize there was someone else alive, because of the distance involved? She was there, you know, only barely. In a way I'm grateful for it, because the life we lived back then... It wasn't something an eleven year old should have to go through.

“Anyway, they thought it was just her and Peter, and decided to train her right, the way the next Alpha should be. That way, when Peter passed away, she'd be ready. And then, when she felt her Alpha pass, and found out that Peter was still alive... No one was going to let Cora walk into that mess unprepared. So they looked into things, and it was one mess after the other. You remember, I'm sure.”

And yeah, Stiles remembers. His body remembers as well, and even though Cora is a 'wolf, and so should be a lot more endurable than him, he's glad that she didn't have to live through what he did.

“Once word reached them about a Hale Alpha settling down in Beacon Hills, they started preparing for Cora to come back. Only, it's Beacon Hills, right? Meaning they heard rumors about an Alpha pack heading towards the town, aiming to recruit. So they held her back, again. And when that settled down, there was the next disaster.”

Whatever that was, because when Stiles left there was nothing new on the horizon. He's not sure if he wants to know, or not, and either way it can wait.

“By then Cora had figured out that waiting for things to calm down was pretty much a futile effort, and so she told the pack that she was leaving, end of story. I'm sure they tried to talk her out of it, but. Pack, family... It's important to us, and Cora had just regained then lost Laura. She wasn't going to risk the same happening to me and Peter.

“She showed up just in time for Christmas, along with a member of her Brazil pack – her advisor. We've spent the time since trying to rebuild our bonds.”

Stiles doesn't know what to say. The story Derek's telling is unbelievable, but he does believe it. Not just because his wolves doesn't react to anything, or because he wants to believe it (he does) but because he's learned quite a few of Derek's tells. None of them are showing.

So he decides to believe it, and smiles.

“That's awesome for you.”

Because as much as he sometimes wants to hate Derek, he doesn't, and with the life Derek's lived he **deserves** something good. Stiles wants to believe this can be it.

Fuck. This is not good.

“I... I need a minute. Alone,” Stiles chokes out and rushes to his room.

Stiles is confused. His head is spinning in so many different directions, at much too high a speed, and he just wants everything to stop. He can't deal with anything like this. And then it hits him, a reminder that he doesn't have to. He's got resources these days. There's no need to try and do this on his own, because he isn't alone anymore.

And now that he remembers, when he's calming down a bit, he knows exactly what his first step should be.

It's not something that can be done with an audience of werewolves though, and Stiles really doesn't think sending them all out of the house is a viable option. They're going to sneak up on him, or not go far enough, or get split up, or just, something. On the other hand, maybe Stiles leaving on his own isn't such a good idea either.

Derek's promised that he's here alone, but. As much as Stiles wants to believe him he can't quite risk it. Oh, he's going to leave the house, alone, no question about it, but he's going to be smart about it.

When he returns to the kitchen all the 'wolves look worried. It's comforting to have the tangible evidence of them caring, but Stiles's focus is elsewhere at the moment.

“Derek. You said you were here alone. Do you promise?”

Derek nods, tersely, clearly unhappy about having his word questioned even if he has to understand why.

“Okay. I'm going to go out for a short walk and make a call. The three of you are going to wait here. And Derek?” He waits until the man looks at him and then slides the sleeves of his hoodie up, showing the blades strapped to his arms.

“If you're lying, and one of your betas attack me while I'm out there? They're going to end up like Aiden. That's **my** promise.”

The thought of killing again leaves a sour taste in Stiles's throat, and he's not sure he can really follow through on that promise, but it needs to be said. He's not going to let anyone force him back to Beacon Hills.

“I know. And if any of them **are** out there, then I'll help you.”

Derek sounds the same way Stiles feels – unhappy to make that promise, but fully capable of going through with it. Well then.

“Jake? Would you mind being my eyes here? I'd rather not have to explain to my dad why we need a new kitchen, or worse.”

He's uncomfortable leaving Derek and Embry together, but Jake's presence makes it easier. They're strong, all of them, but Stiles knows Jake can take Embry down without hurting him, and suspects he can do the same for Derek – or at least with minimal bloodshed. Embry and Jake together should be more than enough to keep Derek in check.

“Derek? Can you promise me that none of your pack is out there, laying in wait for me?” He grows tired of the staring match after only a few seconds and decides to give the man an undeserved explanation. “I'm not kidding you, I don't trust them. You, maybe, possibly, but with the exception of Scott there's not a single member of your pack I trust even as far as I can throw them. Which we both know isn't exactly far. So, again, anyone of them here?”

“I came alone.”

“Which yeah, great, but not what I asked. I know you can feel them, so you should be able to tell if any of them are close by. You should tell me, because if any of them are here, and try anything, it won't end well for them. I might not go for the kill, not with people I've fought and bled with, but I make no promises as to what my pack would do.”

Derek looks at Jake, apprising him, and then back at Stiles.

“As far as I can tell I'm here alone. And if any of them show up here, they won't have to worry about what...your pack thinks.”

It's obvious that Derek doesn't like to even think about Stiles being part of another pack, much less admit it out loud, but that's not important.

 

Once he's walked far enough that none of the wolves should be able to hear him Stiles pulls out his phone and calls Dr Bianchi's emergency number. He knows she might not be able to pick up at once, but if not then he'll get a text with a time frame back within five minutes.

He can wait that long. He thinks.

There's no need to find out though, because Dr Bianchi picks up on the second ring.

“Stiles. What's wrong?”

“He's here. Derek, my old Alpha. He's here.”

And okay, **there** the panic is. It's not an attack, just “normal” panic, but still. Apparently his body and mind has decided that he's not in any immediate danger right now, and so they can stand down from being battle ready. Enter the freak-out.

“Are you safe? Where are you?”

“I'm down the street from my house, maybe a block away. And he's at the house, with Embry and our Alpha. So unless he's lying to me and the others are here to fuck things up, yeah, I'm safe.

“I just... I don't know what to do. He's here, and he said he was sorry, and he's concerned about my safety. And he's changed. Or I think he has. He's not acting like he was when I left. Which may or may not be because surprise, his dead sister came back. What's with the Hales and not staying dead? Huh? I mean, who else is going to come back?”

Stiles's mind flashes to Gerard, and Kate, and the resulting fear makes him feel dizzy and nauseous. And then he thinks about his mom, who never will come back, and suddenly he want to hide somewhere dark and not come out until the world begins to make sense again. (So, basically never then.)

“Fuck, what do I do?” His voice turns pleading, and he hates it, sounding like a pleading child, but he needs help. He's come far enough to know at least that much.

“Okay. Here's what we're going to do. First of all, how bad is it? You sound panicked, but you're obviously still lucid, so I would assume it's not too bad, but could you rate it for me?”

How bad is it? Stiles just stares blankly ahead. How bad **is** Derek showing up, really?

“Not as bad as it could have been? I mean, worst case scenario” a.k.a. the one he's been dreading, even if it's mostly been subconsciously, “had him showing up here, pack in town, and basically throwing me into the trunk of his car to drag me back without stopping to ask whether I wanted to return or not. And he didn't, so. A lot better than that. Ehm, under the circumstances, I'd say it's as good as it could ever get. On a scale of 1 to 10, ten being me trying to kill someone?” And it sucks that he can make that call, that he's got the experience, but he does, and so he's going to use it. And doing so calms him down, so. Win.

“Maybe 3. Yeah, 3 sounds about right. **Obviously** the fact that both Embry and Jake are here helps, but even before they arrived I felt okay. Because I know I'm not alone, and I'm in a better place now.”

Which, you know, understatement of the month, but still. He is.

“If this had happened a couple of months ago, or maybe even as far back as before I met my new pack, then this would have been a disaster. I'd have been curled up somewhere panicking my butt off, or just going along with what Derek wanted, because I couldn't see an option. But now... I didn't feel as if either of that was about to happen. Having Embry, and a healthy pack, has really helped. Being able to be completely honest with my dad helped too, as have seeing you.

“So yeah, maybe this isn't ideal, him coming here, but in the end I really think that it was for the best. I'd rather do this now, like this, than say have us meet for the first time at Scott's wedding or something.”

Because that would have been a disaster in the making for sure. Remembering how Derek reacted to Embry, and the possibility of him being Stiles's reason for staying local, well. Stiles doesn't even want to think about how Derek would have taken Stiles showing up with an actual significant other.

“Okay. That's good then. Now, if I was to call your Alpha, would he take my call?”

And whoa, that's a surprise. Dr Bianchi's been extremely clear about the pack not knowing who she is, or where her offices are, so this? This tells him he might be in more trouble than he'd thought. A chill runs down his back, and suddenly Stiles wants to run and hide behind his dad.

He won't though. He's an adult, somewhat, and needs to act like one. Starting by answering the doc's question. Or trying to, rather.

“I don't know. Hell, I don't even know if he's got a phone on him. Chances are not, you know, since he probably came here on foot. I know Embry did, so...”

“Okay. Then how about this? Can you go back to the house, and ask your Alpha if he'd talk to me? Could we do that?”

And yeah, Stiles can do that. He thinks Jake will take her call too, as it's for the good of a pack member. Plus, if he refuses Embry's going to flip, and someone will tell Nessie, so. Jake'll take the call. Stiles will make sure he does.

“Yeah, okay. Do you want me to hang up and call you again when I there, or?”

“How about you save us both the trouble? Instead, you could take the time to tell me a bit more about what happened before you called me.”

That will take more time than the walk back though, even in abridged form, and so Stiles starts with those details he'd rather not go over in front of his Alpha (and to some degree his wolf) while he's still in privacy range.

By the time he reaches the house he's a lot calmer, and he loses most of the remaining tension when he can see for himself that not only is the house still standing, but all three werewolves are in one piece. Not that **that** is any indication of what may or may not have gone down while he was away, what with the whole healing factor, but. Since the kitchen still looks like it did when he left Stiles is going to assume everyone behaved.

Maybe not happily, what with Derek looking even more murderous than usual, and Embry echoing that, but still.

No one was killed, or mutilated, and Stiles still has a functional kitchen – **and** won't have to scrub it down for blood stains. Score.

Once he's given everything and everyone a quick once-over he ignores the sulking wolves engaged in a silent Stiles-belongs-to-me contest (and Embry is so going to be hearing about that later) and instead approaches his Alpha.

“Jacob? I have someone who would like to talk to you, if you'd accept. I would be very grateful if you'd take their call.”

Stiles is careful to sound as respectful as he can, for several reasons, and he can see Jake's eyebrows twitch. He suspects Embry and Derek are also reacting to this very un-Stiles-like behavior, but he's not focusing on them. They're not important now. Only Jake is.

“If it's important to you, then of course I will. As your Alpha it's my duty to do what's best for my pack.”

And yeah, there's a dig at Derek there. Stiles doesn't mind, because if that's all Jake's going to do? Then he's going to be grateful, and Derek can suck it. _Not that he ever would, and you know it._

Bad thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts.

Stiles tries to focus on Jake's end of the conversation, but soon finds his thoughts wandering. He still can't really get his head around all this. Yes, Derek's talk about him being pack and bringing him back because pack was supposed to be together – which, okay, not exactly what he'd said, but pretty much what he'd meant – did make some sense. But at the same time it didn't.

Stiles had left. Regardless of the circumstances, he'd left. He's made no efforts what so ever to get in touch with anyone other than Scott, and he certainly hasn't tried to contact Derek. If Stiles had truly thought of himself as pack, and had wanted to stay that way, then he would have done everything to make sure that Derek knew that. He would have learned to send up smoke signals if that had been the only option. Because when Stiles wants something, he goes for it, no matter how stupid it is.

Derek might think John Stilinski could have kept Stiles from contacting the pack, but that only goes to prove he doesn't truly know how Stiles functions. Or maybe he doesn't want to believe it.

With his sister back, and an advisor coming with her, Derek must be in a better position than he's been since the fire. Healthier. As for the pack, they should be stronger than Stiles's ever seen them, and judging from Derek's reaction to Stiles ribbing him about Danny (as well as Derek's everything) there should be no need for him to go look for Stiles in order to warm his bed.

Again, none of the facts add up, and nothing makes sense.

Stiles's head aches, and he just wants to **understand**.

Jake's voice breaks through his musings, strong and confident, with what might be the most reassuring words Stiles has heard all day.

“Okay. We'll wait for you here then.”

Backup is on the way, and with it – or so Stiles hopes – understanding.

 

_~ TBC ~_


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...  
> AN: *sigh* Well, fuck work, and being sick and tired, and not being able to write. Obviously I would have wanted this up a long time ago, but. Ended up editing out ~3k of this while trying to make it flow better. I hope it does.  
> Hopefully the next chapter will go up faster, since I have a good portion of it already written.

Waiting for Dr Bianchi is nerve-wrecking. Jake has a good idea of what's happening, and Embry trusts his Alpha and his imprint both. Derek however... Derek trusts no one. The tension in him is so high that Stiles can almost touch it from across the room, and it makes him jittery in a way that almost never happens these days.

“Would you calm down? **Please**.”

“Depends. Will you tell me what is going on here?” Derek snaps, clearly expecting to have his demand brushed aside, but Stiles doesn't see any reason for that.

Rather the opposite in fact, as again: he likes his kitchen, and he wants it to stay in one piece.

“Okay. I can do that. Ehm, just, don't explode on me, okay. I like this house, and we can't afford to rebuild because you couldn't keep your cool. Unsurprisingly enough 'werewolf related destruction' isn't covered by our insurance.”

At least Stiles doesn't think it is, because well, hello. To normal people claiming a werewolf ruined something would indicate drugs at best. Not something to take up when shopping for an insurance policy in other words.

“You're not a very good Alpha. At least you weren't when I left. In fact, it could even be argued that by then you'd gone past 'not very good' into 'terrible'. You had so many issues it was impossible to keep track of them, and I'm honestly not even sure your anger was the worst of them. Which is really bad, by the way, considering how huge that problem was.

“I'm not saying any of this to be mean, it's just how it is. And I get it, I do. You were a kid when the fire happened, and there was no reason for you to have learned about being an Alpha. I'm guessing Laura hadn't gotten much in the way of Alpha training either? So. As I said, I get it. That doesn't change the facts though.

“We both know you're counting on Scott returning to your pack once he graduates. Only there's no way I'm going to let him do that, not with how you were when I left.”

Derek snarls at him, eyes more than a little red.

“And you think you could have stopped him?”

“Yes. Scott wants to go back, sure, but if I asked him not to he'd listen. He needs a pack, I know, but well. Do you **really** think my pack would refuse to take my brother in?”

Stiles very carefully doesn't mention the solutions he'd considered back before meeting the pack. He doesn't even **think** about how one of them had been to kill Derek, or how the biggest con for that one had been the likelihood of Peter becoming Alpha in his stead. It hadn't become necessary, and so he's going to pretend it never happened.

“Any way. You sucked.” _Though not in the good way_ Stiles's subconscious adds. “But what I see now? Tells me maybe you changed. That maybe you could be a good Alpha for Scott. I have some theories, but honestly? I'm too fucked up to make a judgment call here.

“So I called in someone who can. That's who we're waiting for. Just, please. For everyone's sake, relax, and when she gets here? Cooperate. Because I don't **want** you to be a horrible Alpha. I want better for you than that, Derek, even if it might not sound that way.”

Stiles can feel his temper begin to flare up, which is never a good idea, and so he focuses on everything that's good in his life in order to calm down.

“And if you don't believe that, consider this: Scott wants to go back to Beacon Hills, and **I** want what's best for him. That includes a healthy Alpha. Can you at least believe that?”

Derek looks like he's sucking on a lemon, and Stiles kind of feels like he is, but there's a terse nod, and Stiles'll take what he can.

They don't speak again until the doorbell signals the good doctor's arrival.

 

By then Stiles is so wired up it's not even fun. He wants to scream “finally” only he really can't. He knows exactly how long it takes to get from her office to his house by car, and has a **very** good idea of how long it'd take for a werewolf to run. The doc just cut five minutes on that time.

So. Either her driving is bad enough that she should never ever be allowed behind a wheel, or Sophia Bianchi is something other than plain human. Combined with all the little oddities Stiles has noticed – but pretended not to, because everyone deserves some privacy – over the last couple of months his vote is for something other.

And for some reason that doesn't make him feel lied to, or nervous, or anything like that. Instead he's relieved. If Dr Bianchi isn't just human then the chances of this intervention, or whatever, ending well just became that much higher.

Embry is the one to open the door, and she nods at both him and Stiles in greeting. Derek gets a look, the kind that makes Stiles very very wary. But her focus is almost completely on Jake.

“Alpha. Thank you for allowing my presence here. My name is Sophia Bianchi.”

“Anything for a member of the pack, mz Bianchi. I am Jacob Black. Should we take this into the living room perhaps?”

The question's half directed to her, and half to Stiles, and when they both nod Jake leads the way. He's not as comfortable in the house as some of the others, but he's been here often enough that it shows. The realization gets Derek's hackles up, but well. As long as nothing (or no one) is broken, Stiles is fine with that.

“So. Allow myself to introduce myself a bit further. I am a psychotherapist, and part of my practice deals with supernatural beings and trauma related to the supernatural. Stiles asked for my help to sort out the situation with his former Alpha, as we've spoken about the subject before, and he believed I could be of assistance.”

She's not exactly blatantly staring, but it's clear to everyone that she's figured out who Derek is. And she's not happy. Stiles doesn't know if any of the others can tell, or if it's just because he's spent so much time with her, but at least to him it's obvious. Of course, he has told her quite a few things about Derek, and his pack, and the situation back in Beacon Hills. And then there's the fact that his behavior back at the start was enough for her to suspect rape.

So yeah. He never expected her to like Derek. He doesn't need her to. Stiles just needs for her to confirm his suspicions – or disprove them – and tell them how to fix Derek.

You don't have to like someone in order to turn them into something less like a ticking bomb. Which Derek very much is.

 

Considering how reluctant his wolves were to leave Stiles alone earlier it's kind of amusing and insulting at the same time how agreeable they are when Dr Bianchi asks if she could have some time alone with Stiles and Derek. To Stiles that only confirms his growing suspicions that she's some kind of **other**.

Still. Patient/doctor confidentiality and all that, and it's not like **Stiles** can listen in on her talking to Derek. The opposite is, of course, not true, but hey. Derek pretty much knows everything Stiles has to say about his time in Beacon Hills, and if there's anything he doesn't, then it's time he did.

Stiles doesn't get to test that theory though, as Dr Bianchi starts by talking to Derek. That leaves Stiles pretty much climbing the walls of the kitchen while they go sit in his dad's study.

When Dr Bianchi opens the door to signify that she and Derek are done talking in private it's been over an hour, and it feels like the most amazing thing ever. (Slight exaggeration, sure, but.) Yes, his focus is better these days, but he still doesn't do very well with waiting. Especially this kind of waiting.

He did try to distract himself, but the fact that he ended up having to actually **read** the recipe for his favorite brownies is very telling. That he's not sure they turned out right even with that help is even more so.

So when the doc calls his name Stiles jumps up and hurries to join them.

Derek looks wrecked, the same way Stiles know he himself looked after his first meeting with the doc. That's probably a good thing though, he thinks, because that should mean Derek's been forced to actually think.

“So, what's the verdict, doc?”

She gives him one of her looks, one that says that his flippant attitude is **not** cute, and then slips back into professional mode.

“Right. While I've kept what you, Stiles, have told me in mind, I have not shared any of it with Derek. That should go without saying, but sadly I believe we're not at that point. I have spoke to Derek, and he has answered all of my questions to the best of his ability.

“Normally I would **not** go about things this way, but there really is no 'normal' about this situation. So.”

She stops talking for a couple of seconds, takes the time to meet both Derek's and Stiles's eyes, and then starts up again.

“First of all, Stiles, I know you were worried about whether or not Derek was suffering from a weak anchor and as a result under the influence of a negative pack bond. It is my opinion that that's the case. While for now I can only call it a theory, I believe that your friend Scott stabilized the pack while he was present, and that he did so to such a degree that the effect lingered. If I'm correct, then that would be why it took so long for the negative spiral to truly begin.

“Once Derek's sister returned she had the same effect, stabilizing the pack and Derek. Her presence also strengthened Derek's ties to his human side, and gave him something more to anchor himself to. Add that along with her the pack also gained an advisor and you have a good explanation for Derek's changed behavior.

“That does not mean all is well though, because if I – and you – am right, and there is a problem in the pack, then that problem needs to be addressed. Also, Derek needs to work on himself, and his anchor.”

Dr Bianchi turns towards Derek with a gentle yet wary expression on her face.

“When I first asked Stiles to describe you the word he used was 'unfinished'. He had his reasons for that, and my opinion is that he was correct. It is my professional opinion that you need to see someone and talk through the traumas regarding the loss of your family, and everything surrounding it. As it stands I believe you are not allowing yourself to fully move on from that, and that is detrimental to your health, and that of your pack.

“If you want a healthy pack, then you need to start by becoming healthy yourself.”

Derek doesn't even scowl at her, and that scares Stiles just a little. He's enjoyed tormenting Derek more than a bit over the last couple of hours, sure, but he doesn't want to see the man broken. This looks too much like that for Stiles's taste.

He knows what being broken feels like, and it's not something he wants to think about in others. Sure, he's thought it before, that Derek is probably just as broken as he is, or even more so, but. Stiles prefers not to be reminded of that.

So, instead of looking at Derek he looks at the doc, and tries to ignore how her facial expression says something along what he's thinking.

When push comes to shove, this isn't a conversation Stiles was ever planning on having. He wasn't really planning on talking to Derek ever again, and definitely not about them. But now that they're here, well.

Stiles has to admit he's curious as to what reasons Derek will have for his behavior. The anchor/pack bond was at the top of his list, and that's been practically confirmed, accompanied with maybe an unhealthy dose of internalized homophobia. (He says “maybe” because while he doesn't doubt it's there he doesn't know if Derek's willing to admit to it.)

Beacon Hills is a pretty good place if you're alphabet soup, sure, but. The place you live doesn't help all that much if the problem comes from within you. And with Derek? The problems **always** comes from within.

(That isn't altogether fair, Stiles knows, what with the whole pack bond crap. But then again, even there it's a problem with roots inside of Derek, getting its strength from his issues.)

“Stiles, Derek. I have spoken to you both, and I believe that you need to clear up a few things about the two of you and your...relationship. I know you will both have things to say, but for now, Stiles, I believe it's crucial that Derek talk and you listen.”

Which, wow. That's a level of serious the doc rarely reaches, and only when it's really important. So Stiles just nods, and turns his eyes towards Derek.

Truthfully? He might not want this, or be ready for it, but he needs it. He's thought about this, them, a lot and he's got a pretty good idea that he'll never truly be free until this is dealt with.

“This is going to sound awful, just... Listen. Being with you... It caused a lot of feelings, and not a lot of them were good.”

And wow. Stiles never expected this to be an easy talk, you know, when he wasn't actively ignoring the need for it, but this... This is starting off worse than he'd thought. It's beginning to look like if at the end of all this Stiles just might have preferred having Derek rip into him with claws instead of words. And no, the fact that Stiles suspects Derek doesn't mean to rip into him at all doesn't change anything.

He holds back the vitriol that wants to spew out in return though, because Dr Bianchi asked him to be quiet and listen, and he still respects her.

“I felt as if I was letting my family down, as if I was betraying them by being with a guy. Not... I'm not saying they had a problem with homosexuality, because as far as I know they didn't, or that they would have opposed one of their kids being gay. This isn't about them, it's about me.”

And somehow that completely fails to make Stiles feel any better. It would be so much easier, he thinks, if he could blame someone else. Apparently he was hoping for that option, and that's both telling and so not good.

“My family has held the same territory for a very long time – since before there was a Beacon Hills. They helped found the town as part of the effort to hold the territory. Keeping it that way, keeping it Hale land... It's important to me. I don't have much left of my family, but that is one thing I do have. The territory, and the duty to uphold it.

“And for that to happen, well. Pack is family, yes, but not blood family. Of course, you can create blood family just like you can create non-blood pack. Only the Hales were down, or so I thought, to me. And Peter, I guess.”

Stiles shivers a little when Peter's name comes up. He's better, these days, he knows he is, but that doesn't change the fact that Peter Hale is at the center of so much of Stiles's trauma and thus not a happy topic.

Then again, judging by the way Derek says his name, Stiles is not alone in that sentiment.

“As far as I was concerned though it was up to me. I needed to find someone to carry my children, and that could never be you. So, being with you came to mean letting my family down.”

Stiles finds that put this way he can understand Derek's reasoning to a degree. That kind of legacy, to be the only one left to carry it, to pass it on – and no, Peter doesn't count since Peter needs to not procreate, ever – is a heavy burden.

So yes. Stiles can understand – and at the same time not. Because men who are in relationships with other men – or in no relationships at all, for that matter – have children just fine. It takes more work and planning than for those who can “just” knock up their partner, sure, but still.

Just, it's easy to see how Derek might not have thought that far.

Of course, just because Stiles can see how Derek managed to get so twisted around doesn't mean it's **not** a fuck up, or that he's just going to forgive and forget. Because that would just be plain stupid.

Besides... He's not exactly comfortable with what he's hearing.

“And now, what? Your sister is alive and back, and suddenly you don't feel like having babies anymore? Because you think you can foist that off on her?”

Stiles isn't even going to touch all the ways that doesn't make sense, especially how twisted it is to somehow expect Cora to want the burden of carrying on the family legacy just because she's female.

He thinks Derek probably knows some of the things that are running through Stiles's head, because he looks embarrassed, and uncomfortable. Good.

“In a way. But Cora always wanted children. She would talk about it all the time when we were younger, and she still feels that way. I wouldn't be surprised to see her have a dozen children to be honest.

“I...I never really felt that. Children were an abstract when I was young, and then a duty. Now that I don't feel the pressure, I just feel relieved. As it is I doubt I would make for a good father. Maybe I'll want kids one day. Maybe I never will. But whatever happens it'll be because of choice. Not because I feel I **have** to, regardless of my own wishes.”

And yeah, okay, Stiles can get behind that. Just as he can understand how feeling that pressure, even when self-imposed, could fuck you up. He remembers exactly how his dad brushing him off at the Jungle felt, and back then he didn't even fully understand his sexuality himself. It was just a distraction back then. And yet... it stings.

Aaaaaand it's a topic for another time. Seriously.

“The truth is you pushed so many buttons. Maybe even all of them. And I ended up taking it out on you. I shouldn't have, and I'm ashamed of myself for doing so, but. Just... Being with you made me feel dirty.”

And wow, that's like a fist to the face. (And yes, Stiles is unfortunately familiar enough with that sensation to know for certain.) Sure, he already figured Derek had problems with being sexually involved with a guy, but hearing it like this feels worse than he'd ever imagined.

“Not like that, don't look at me like that, please. Stiles, **please**. Not because you were a guy, but because you were so young, and yes, you **were**. None of the things that happened to make you feel differently changes the fact that you were only 17. Being with you, knowing that... It made me feel like Kate.”

Kate? The only Kate Stiles knows off that Derek might also know is Kate Argent, which what? What does she have to do with any of this? Why would having sex with Stiles, even underage, make Derek feel like her?

And right then the puzzle pieces start falling into place, and Stiles's stomach makes an unpleasant swoop, because fuck.

It's obviously all written clearly on his face too, because Derek just nods and gives him a smile with absolutely no joy in it.

“I thought you had figured it out. You're the smart one, you always figure things out. Even when you shouldn't.”

“You thought I'd figured out that crazy Kate Argent apparently used sex in order to murder people? No. Okay, Derek? **No**. No sane person makes that connection out of the blue, alright, just as no sane person **does** that.”

He bites his tongue, literally, to swallow the words resting just on the tip of it. Because telling Derek that what Kate did was horrible, was rape, and that Stiles kind of wishes she wasn't dead so they could kill her in a more painful way... It would all be true. It would also most likely make Derek feel like all those things are true about **him**. That **Derek** is a horrible rapist who should suffer.

So he forces himself to go silent, and go back to listening.

“Either way, I should have been stronger. I wanted you, but that doesn't mean I should have taken you up on it when you offered.”

Offered? Offered? Stiles didn't fucking offer anything of the kind, and he's about to inform Derek of exactly that when he meets Dr Bianchi's eyes and sees the warning. Right. Let Derek talk.

And he should. He should calm down, and think, before everything blows up again. Maybe if he listens he'll be able to wrap his head around this, and figure out how to deal with it.

So he lets Derek keep talking. About how Dr Bianchi told him about the pack bonds, and how it all fits, and how sometimes he would get so angry with Stiles and not know why. About how knowing that having sex with Stiles was illegal, and wrong, and how it twisted him up inside that he still kept doing it.

Derek talks about he realized Stiles was gone, and how that made him feel, and about Cora coming back, and how **that** felt, and how the effect it had had on the pack. He talks and talks, and it's fair to say Stiles is more than a little surprised over the amount of words spilling out of the Alpha's mouth. As for the words themselves, well, they too surprise, to a degree.

It's a lot of things Stiles has figured out on his own, where the surprise is more in Derek saying them, and then some that comes straight out of nowhere. When Derek finally goes quiet Stiles feels as he knows the man better than he'd ever dared to hope on even the best of days.

“Stiles?” Dr Bianchi prods, carefully. “Do you have anything to add?”

“I, I... Don't know? Maybe? Look, just, I'm going to go get a glass of water. Derek, you want one too?” Because Stiles needs quiet, needs to gather his thoughts without looking at either of them, and the kitchen is a viable escape.

Does he have anything to add? Plenty. Does he have anything he **should** add, that's the real question. He should, probably, tell Derek the truth about the “offer” of sex. As soon as he can figure out how to do it without causing an explosion.

He's fresh out of energy for those today, thank you very much.

When Stiles returns to the study he's a bit calmer, but still too wired. Possibly enough so to bleed through to his pack. Hopefully not, because the last thing any of them need right now is for an upset pack to storm the house. (Stiles especially doesn't want Derek and Paul in the same house. Like, ever. And if it has to happen, then not **his** house. Or in his presence, preferably.)

Not even the prospect of avoiding what lies ahead would make having the pack barge in be worth it.

“Yeah, so, I have something I should probably add. Only, Derek, you're not allowed to wolf out on us, okay, because I can't deal with that right now. I'm all kinds of done with today, honestly, and if you don't think you can keep your temper under control, then we need to not have this talk now.”

It's obvious neither Derek nor the doc likes Stiles's “attitude”, but whatever. After all, the doc's who taught him to look out for his own wellbeing over catering to others. So, he's following her advice. And that's exactly what he's going to say if she calls him out. For now though, they both nod, reluctantly sure, but Stiles'll take it.

“I want you to know, I've listened to everything you've said. I agree with a lot of it too. There's just one thing I need to clear up. Something I think you misunderstood, and that once you realize the truth, maybe none of the rest will matter. Not when it comes to you and me anyway.

“So. When you said I offered you sex? I didn't. I really, really didn't. When asking if it’d help if I got down on my knees and begged I actually did mean **beg**. It wasn’t a roundabout way of offering you a blow job.”

“Then why did you give me one?” Derek cries out, sounding hurt and frustrated and utterly confused.

“Because you made it sound like that was a condition for your help, and I knew I couldn’t do it on my own any longer. Scott is... He's my best friend, my brother in everything but blood, and he wasn't dealing with becoming a werewolf nearly as well as we were pretending. He needed someone to teach him, and the stability of a pack. It wasn't that hard to figure out that not having that was a part of why Peter was so insane when he woke up. It wasn't all of it, no, but the lack of grounding, the lack of a **pack definitely** didn't help.

“I'm not stupid, Derek, I can add two and two and come up with four – or in this case what to do to keep Scott from turning into a mindless killer. I knew that sooner or later Scott almost killing me would become Scott **actually** killing me, or someone else.

“I wasn't going to let that happen. Not to me, not to my dad, and not to Scott. So I went to the only person I trusted could help us. I came to you. And I sure as hell wasn't going to let my so-called virtue stand in the way of what I needed.”

His chest is heaving, and his ears are ringing a little, and Derek... Derek looks like shit. He looks like he did when he realized that the Alpha was Peter. And yeah, maybe Stiles can understand why. He just confessed to practically prostituting himself to Derek for Scott’s sake, because of a misunderstanding on Derek’s behalf. Considering what he knows – and suspects – of Derek’s past... That’s gotta burn.

And it turns out, Stiles doesn't want to make Derek burn any more.

“And it wasn't as if I wasn't attracted to you. I was. In fact, I was more than a little gone on you – I just wasn't going to do anything about it. Between that, and being tired of being overlooked, and needing your help...

“It didn't feel like that big of a deal. Sure, it spiraled out of control, but at first? I thought it was worth it. Everyone I loved was safer. I got to feel wanted. I usually got off whenever we had sex. And sometimes... Sometimes I saw a Derek I liked, that I could have been friends with.”

Stiles closes his eyes, knowing he's much too close to cruelty, but also knowing that if he wants Derek to get it, and not keep pushing, then Stiles needs to be honest. And he doesn't know how to do that without also being cruel. Not when it comes to this.

“The problem was that I realized I never liked you when you fucked me. Instead I walked away feeling lonelier than ever, almost hating both of us.”

Because as much as he'd been willing, at first, to settle, Stiles had wanted so much more. He would be allowed small glimpses of a different Derek, one he could have loved, and go all stupid, thinking that maybe– And then Derek would call and Stiles would end up bruised and sore and feeling used.

“I guess you could say that's part of why I left too, so I wouldn't hate the both of us. Still, I didn't mean to use you. Obviously we both misunderstood the other. And I'd like us to just...leave all that behind now. Could we? Please?”

It's not that easy, because it never is, but Stiles is happy to pretend it is. So's Derek, apparently, and so they will.

They both fall silent again, and turn to Dr Bianchi to take over. She does, after a couple of heartbeats, and scrounges up a faint, meant to be encouraging smile. It does nothing for Stiles. He's beyond such gestures now. He needs this over with, and he needs his pack.

“You both talked out? Good. Now, there's one more thing we need to cover. I think – but keep in mind that this isn't my area of expertise – that there's a spell of some sort on Derek. With all the facts on the table, something is still missing, and it being magic makes a strange sort of sense.”

Magic? Stiles really doesn't like the sound of that. He knows a little of what magic can do, after all, thanks to Deaton and Old Quil.

“Unfortunately magic is **not** my area of expertise, which means that I can't be sure, nor can I help. So, Derek, is there anyone you can go to to have yourself 'checked out' so to speak?”

“Deaton,” Stiles interrupts, without even giving Derek a chance to answer. “He's in Beacon Hills, and he knows you somewhat well. He should be able to tell.”

“No. Not Deaton.”

Stiles wants to protest, because if there's magic involved, then they– **Derek** needs to know so it can be removed. The idea of there being an outside reason for Derek being such a bastard at times, one that is completely unrelated to the man himself... It needs to go. Not to mention that it could mean so much danger.

He says exactly that, only with more words, and nowhere near as diplomatic as he probably should.

Derek just shakes his head once, and looks even more stubborn. And Stiles, well, he's just had it. He knows Derek doesn't like or trust the vet, but seriously? It's not just Derek's ass at stake here. In fact, so far it hasn't been Derek's ass **at all**.

“Dude, do you **want** to be controlled by something like that? Do you want to be a fucking menace? No? Well, then Deaton is literally your best bet here.”

“ **No**. I agree that if the doctor's suspicions are right and there's magic involved, then it needs to be dealt with. But I'm not talking to Deaton. He should be perfect, yes, except I don't trust him. No, Stiles, I don't. I can't. And if you're completely honest, then I don't think you can say you trust him either.”

Which, fair. Stiles has a ton of issues with Deaton, and is still on the fence about whether or not the good things he's done balances it all out. He doesn't say that though, opting to just nod.

“The truth is that Deaton loves his secrets, and his aura of mystery, and he's never told us a word more than he could get away with. Not even when it was important that we know, or when those secrets weren't his to keep.

“He told me he knew my mother. Chances are he was her emissary. Yet he's never offered any information about her, nor any help when it came to rebuilding the pack, and he won't answer my questions.

“Now, he might not like me, and I can accept that, but if he **was** my mother's emissary? Then he kept that from us, by choice, and that's inexcusable. Think about it. Think about all the times we might have gotten off easier if Deaton had shared more, or earlier. And think about it. If he'd approached Laura after the fire... Things would have been different. Very different. Laura and I might never have left then.”

Stiles can fill in the rest. Peter might not have gone so insane on his own. He probably never would have been able to wreak such havoc on the town if he'd been guarded by his kin. And Laura, Stiles swallows, Laura might not have died with the right kind of support. If that's what Derek is thinking then he's never going to trust Deaton, and Stiles completely understands it.

“Besides, all that apart, there's still the fact that Deaton is one of the top suspects for casting this hypothetical magic on me.”

And that brings Stiles to a halt. Derek honestly thinks Deaton would do something like **that**?

His thoughts are obviously right on his face for everyone to read, because Derek just nods in answer to his question.

“Okay. No Deaton then. But dude, that complicates things. Do you know anyone else who can help you?”

Derek's got his grumpy face on again, well, one of them. This one looks more thoughtful and helpless than angry.

“Maybe Cora's adoptive pack. They have a good network, so if they don't know anyone they should know someone who does.”

And yeah, Stiles isn't comfortable with that. That's way too many maybes for him to risk his brother-from-another-mother.

“Doc? I know you said that this wasn't your area of expertise, but do you know anyone who can help? Maybe even someone in this country?”

She nods, getting where he's coming from, and looks pensive.

“It's possible. However, I am uncertain if any of them would be willing to work with a case like this. I can certainly put out some feelers, but I can't make any promises.”

That's when it hits Stiles that **he** knows someone who should be able to at least tell if there is magic on Derek – beyond the one that's inherent that is. He's the student of that very someone in fact. And unlike whoever Dr Bianchi or the South American pack might scrounge up Old Quil is only a few hours away.

Of course, it's not up to Stiles to make such an offer. He doesn't want it to be up to him. This is where being part of a pack and having an Alpha comes into play, and becomes a win – there's a hard decision to make, and Stiles can feel his whole body relax from the relief that he's not going to have to be the one to make it.

“I need to talk to Jake first, but I have an idea. If it pans out you could know about the magic before today's over, just... I can't make any promises. It's not my place to do so.”

Derek's not exactly happy about that option either, that much is obvious, but he still nods his agreement. Maybe he thinks Jake's statements about how the pack will do what Stiles needs means that they're less likely to fuck him over than Deaton. They probably are, to be honest. If Jake refuses to talk to Old Quil it'll be because he thinks it's what's best for the pack and the tribe, not out of spite. Chances are he will agree though, because getting Derek straightened out means taking out a possible threat to an imprint – and in a nonviolent way.

“I think that's a good solution,” Dr Bianchi says, and smiles. “I will, of course, look for other options should the need arise, but I would feel a lot better if this could be cleared up as soon as possible.”

 _You're not the only one_ , Stiles thinks, and a quick glance at Derek suggests he's thinking the same thing.

While Dr Bianchi calls Embry – who's got Stiles's cellphone – and Jake to come back, Stiles and Derek are left alone, for the first time in over a year. It feels weird, but Stiles isn't worried or scared. He wasn't sure before, but now? Now he's over thinking Derek's here to hurt him or drag him back.

The relief is almost enough to make him collapse.

Which of course is when Derek starts talking again. He looks just as drained as Stiles feels, and like the last thing he wants to talk more. That he still intends to means it has to be important, and that's why Stiles doesn't just walk away, regardless of how little **he** wants to talk about anything more.

“Stiles, I... You mentioned Danny before. I noticed you were very careful not to ask. Well, I want want you to know I never touched him like that.”

Why? It makes no sense to Stiles, not that Derek thinks him knowing is so important, and not that Derek didn't take advantage. If he had no problem sleeping with Stiles, then why not Danny? Danny, who everyone has always liked and who's always been seen as attractive (unlike Stiles) and who apparently was very willing.

So why wouldn't Derek take that chance?

“Because Danny awoke the same set of instincts in me as Kate Argent.” _Oh fuck._ “Only now I get what they mean. It's a warning, and I'm not ignoring that again. He doesn't want me – he wants something **from** me. You wanted something too, yes, but you wanted **safety**. Danny wants power. If he gets off as well it's a bonus, but when push comes to shove sex is something he's willing to use, not something he actually wants. Not with me.

“I could never imagine going to sleep in the same room as him. My instincts wouldn't let me. Danny would happily stab me in the back, literally not figuratively, if he thought it was best for him. You on the other hand never would do that. Not unless I went after your loved ones first.”

Derek's description sounds terrifyingly true, and very much like something Stiles himself could say about post-Bite Danny, and he shivers. He'd put the way he felt around Danny down to paranoia, but if Derek feels it too? That's a warning, alright. When it comes to people he's not sleeping with, or Peter, Derek's instincts are sound, and always have been.

And fuck. He can't compute. This, right here, is the drop that made it too much. So he just files it all away, nods, and leans back into the chair and closes his eyes.

He doesn't move a muscle until he feels Embry's presence, and even then he just goes with the flow. He ends up on the couch, half-collapsed and leaning into Embry's side, listening as Dr Bianchi takes it upon herself to explain the situation to Jake. Derek's quiet, and probably looks grumpy and stubborn, and can the day just be over now, please?

It's not easy, but in the end Jake agrees to talk to his father and old Quil, who in return agrees to help Derek. Or try, at least. It's a start, at least.

 

O---o--o---O

 

Dr Bianchi isn't allowed on the rez, even for Stiles's sake – and he just knows there's a story behind that, one he's dying to hear – and so she returns to Seattle with a promise to look for resources. Stiles is a bit uncomfortable seeing her go, because she's acted like a perfect security blanket. At the same time what she's about to do is important.

Regardless of what the verdict is on the magic Derek is still going to need help. Lots of it, probably. Only, finding a supernatural therapist isn't easy. The only reason Stiles lucked out was because Sue used some mysterious connections no one is willing to talk about, and he's not sure how well Derek will do.

The same goes for finding someone to deal with eventual magic cast on Derek. Sure, Dr Bianchi might find someone for Derek, for both problems, but Stiles isn't built for optimism. He knows very well that there's a very real possibility that Derek will end up needing more from them than what he's getting today.

Once they get to Old Quil's home Derek is shown inside, while the rest of them get asked to leave. “I'll call you when I know something” has possibly never sounded more ominous.

 

O---o--o---O

 

It's a very serious looking Quil that greets them an hour later. Just looking at him makes Stiles's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. This isn't good. This might even be as far from good as is possible. His entire body twitches, and his fingers itch for something to do.

Pulling out his wolf's-bane laced mace to play with is not a good idea though, and so Stiles just continues to twitch.

“There is most definitely magic involved. I am unable to see what the intent behind it is, or how long it's been there, but I can tell you without a doubt that someone has been casting magic on Derek in order to control him.”

And fuck. Sure, this could be considered good news, but. Magic has never not fucked them up. And if there's a spell – or several – controlling Derek, then it needs to be removed. And that's the thing, isn't it, that someone needs to remove it, only who?

“The good news is that from what I can tell it's weak magic, in the sense that it's, well, **pushing** him in a certain direction more than **forcing** him. However, there is a lot of power involved. Now, that could be because it's one spell, cast several times, or because the caster was very powerful – or maybe the magic that makes him what he is interferes with my examination.

“The other piece of good news is that I believe it can be unraveled without the caster, and without knowing what the spells were meant to do. I have told Derek this, as well as how I suggest he go about this. The bad news, or so I would assume, is that I do not believe it is something he should be doing on his own. He needs direction, and guidance, and from what what little he says I fear there is no one in his life to provide that.”

And yes, that does sound like bad news. Because Stiles knows what this means, and it's not what he was hoping for. On the other hand, he kind of knew it'd end up this way, didn't he?

Somehow it's always him pulling werewolf asses out of the fire.

Sure, by proxy this time, but. Still. Not to mention that he was the one to get the ball rolling. And now it appears he's going to have to keep it so.

“Okay. I need to make a phone call.”

And if Stiles leaves a little too fast, well. No one's going to call him on it. Not if they know what's good for him.

Filling Dr Bianchi in doesn't take long at all, not that he cares that much about time or details. That's not the purpose of his call, not really. All Stiles wants is to know if she's found someone to take over Derek's “case”.

“Honestly? Not really. The only magic users I've been able to find who would be comfortable working with him are in Japan. And since I don't think traveling that far is a real option...? That's an emergency solution only.

“Derek would be better off contacting his sister's adoptive pack. I know that they too are out of the country, but Brazil is closer than Japan, and Derek would have reason to trust them more than anyone I can find. Besides, it's possible that they could find someone willing to travel to Beacon Hills.”

With Cora there, yes. Except...

“I'm not sure Derek would like that though. This is making him vulnerable, and that's dangerous. Especially there. Peter...” Stiles swallows, and fights down the fear. “Peter's a coward, and I can't see him ever going up against Derek in a fair fight, but if he finds out something like this... That could give him an in.”

The thought of Peter becoming an Alpha again is almost enough to send Stiles running for Embry, screaming and crying. He's not defenseless anymore, not like he was when all of this started, but that's logic and logic is weak in comparison to the kind of fear Peter installs in Stiles.

“I see. That would exclude this Dr Deaton too, then, even if Derek was willing to trust him.”

“Which he isn't, and probably never will be. For good reason too, I might add. I know it has to be hard, you never having met the man, but what Derek said about him... It rings true. Sure, Deaton saved our bacon a couple of times, but... He keeps secrets as if his life depends on it, regardless if he should or not.

“He's the kind of person who wouldn't tell you if it's raining outside or not, if he could get away with it. And for no other reason than that he could.”

The more he thinks about it, the more Stiles fears that Derek is right, and Deaton is the one responsible, and that leads to a whole other can of worms.

“Okay. So that's a no on the magic then. What about finding him a you? Because it's clear as hell that he needs one.”

“Yes. I did have a little better luck there. However, that only means so much. There aren't that many in my line of work who also are in the know, and even fewer who would be willing to work with an Alpha werewolf with a questionable history. Most of the ones I know are on other continents, and that's why in the end I only have two names for him.

“One of them is in Boston, and the other one is in Calgary.”

Stiles doesn't know if Derek will be able to go across the country often enough for therapy to be effective, and Calgary... Calgary means he's basically going to be passing Stiles every time he has an appointment. Which might not be that often, because while closer than Boston Calgary isn't exactly close.

The thing is, Stiles knows what's what here. Derek needs therapy – oh god, so much therapy – just as much as he needs someone to unravel the magic on him. It doesn't exactly comes as a surprise that finding someone to provide either is going to be tough, nor that finding both in one place – or close enough – is going to be practically impossible.

Unless Derek comes here.

Dr Bianchi is awesome, and Stiles is certain she'd be able to fix Derek. Old Quil could take care of the magic part. And if Derek was to spend time here, on the rez, well. Derek's not the best Alpha. But there's no reason he can't be better. Jake and Sam, they're good. They could teach Derek how to be a better Alpha (and maybe even a better man, because Derek's damaged there too, his role-models taken away much too soon) and truthfully, so could basically anyone associated with the pack.

If Derek comes here.

And as much as a part of Stiles wants to pretend he never thought that, to send Derek away and never see him again... Stiles wants Derek to heal. Because he's Scott's Alpha. Because he's the guardian of Beacon Hills, where Stiles still has people he cares about. Because fixing Derek might fix the pack, which can only be good.

And because Derek deserves to be healthy.

And if Stiles wants to believe that fixing Derek will fix part of him too, that stubborn part that still cares even though he knows he shouldn't, well. It is what it is.

Either way, it makes a twisted kind of sense for Derek to come here, to Stiles's sanctuary, for the people who healed Stiles to heal Derek too.

Stiles just doesn't know if suggesting it would make him a complete idiot.

“Do you... Do you think I'm crazy if I say he might as well see you then? Because between Boston and Calgary, he's probably going to be staying on this coast, and if I'm going to have him running this way all the time, well, might as well be to you, yeah? That way I know he's seeing someone trustworthy. Plus, you could maybe make sure we're not in Seattle at the same time?

“And – I mean, Jake's going to have to okay it, and possibly the council too, but still – that way the person who looked at him now could help with the magic at the same time. If they agree, I mean.

“Am I stupid for thinking that?”

“No. I think you're trying to do what's best for everyone, including people you don't like very much. I think you're being brave, and trying to not be selfish, and I think that if all goes well, this will be a good thing for just not Derek, but you as well.”

“And if it doesn't?”

“If it doesn't, then I'll be here for you.”

And surprisingly enough, that promise is all it takes for Stiles to try and be brave.

 

Walking back to Old Quil's house Stiles feels...heavy. It's even worse to walk inside and announce that he thinks Old Quil should help Derek get rid of the magic trapping him, and that Derek should probably see Dr Bianchi. And then, to ask that while they're at it, could the pack help Derek, teach him to be a better Alpha? Yeah, no. It all makes Stiles feel wrung out and done.

No one likes hearing it – with the possible exception of Derek. Embry dislikes it so much the bond between them vibrates, and Jake... Jake looks scary, shaking with an anger that is only fractions from phasing. Stiles takes a step closer to Embry, reaching out carefully to try and ground him through touch.

“I know I'm asking a lot. I know allowing Derek onto your land isn't an easy thing. And I know, god do I know, that trusting him can't be easy. But I think this is something that needs to be done. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important.

“Regardless of everything else, Derek doesn't deserve to be controlled by magic. No one does. And no one deserves being subjected to his, well, I want to say mood swings? because of that magic. So I'm asking. Because it's the right thing to do, and because my best friend is meant to rejoin Derek's pack in less than a year.

“I'd rather not have to kill him for hurting Scott if I can avoid it.”

Which isn't to say he wouldn't. Just that if it can be at all avoided, then that's how Stiles wants it.

Jake's face is doing all those things that Stiles is beginning to learn is him judging what's easy against what's right, trying to balance being a good person and an Alpha, and generally being a leader. All those things that weight too heavily on his shoulders so often.

Then his shoulders fall a bit, and he sighs deeply.

“I'm going to have to talk about this with the Elders. All of them. Because letting Derek onto the rez once is one thing, but allowing him access for an unforeseeable future? Allowing him access to Old Quil, and all that entitles? That's not a decision I can make on my own – nor one I should.

“But, provided they agree, is this **truly** something you believe we should do, Stiles?”

And that's his Alpha asking.

Stiles nods. He does. He remembers Derek before he became Alpha, remembers all the times the man has saved him, and how much Derek tried to help Scott. He believes that Derek can be a good person, and a good Alpha, and he knows that if they can help him – if there's even the slightest possibility that they can help – then they have to. Or Stiles will never forgive himself.

He doesn't say that though. Instead he just repeats himself.

“It's the right thing to do.”

Jake looks into his eyes, long and searching, and then nods. Then he turns towards Derek, who's been surprisingly silent throughout all of this, and Stiles stiffens.

“I have one concern.”

Jake looks friendly, and like he's about to bring up something on the level of what candy to buy for a movie. Stiles sees through it though. He knows his Alpha well enough now to know that someone is going to be unhappy with what comes next. Quite possibly several someones.

He's right.

“Derek, we – the pack and the tribe – might be able to help you. I am going to suggest we try. Not because you asked, or even because you need it – though the latter would be enough – but because **Stiles** asked, and as a member of this pack what he needs we will always try to provide. But. Before I let you on our territory, before I let you into our homes, I need to know something.

“If we do this, will you be okay, considering Stiles's bond with Embry?”

And wow. Incoming. Stiles backs up a little, as discrete as possible, putting himself in position so he can easily dive into cover behind Embry. He does not think Derek's going to keep his cool through this, not with what Stiles knows.

“Bond?” And yes, there's the eyebrow raise. Stiles backs up another half-step.

“Yes. We refer to it as an imprint, but Stiles's initial reaction was to call it a mating bond.”

And wow. Jake is really trying to provoke Derek. Sure, Stiles can see why he would want to see how the other Alpha will react, but really. This is **Stiles's kitchen**. One piece, as is. No exploding werewolves, **please**.

Derek doesn't explode though. He gets very defensive, yes, but there's no exploding. Meaning there's no exploding from Embry or Jake either, which in turn means Stiles might not poison anyone's cupcakes. Maybe. He's still withholding judgment.

“Mating? I see. And here you had me actually believing you wanted what is best for Stiles.”

“I do. We all do.”

“Mating isn't real. It's made up. Fiction. Bullshit even.”

“And you are such an expert on what is and isn't true when it comes to werewolves? Because from what Stiles has told us I would think not.”

“I don't know everything, you're right. But I do know that mates aren't real.”

He dismisses Jake and turns to Stiles, looking all earnest and worried.

“Stiles, I understand if you want to stay, even with this. But please, don't let them use lies to keep you. Please. My mom didn't get around to teaching me everything, you're absolutely right about that, but this is actually something she did cover.

“Laura... Laura loved Buffy. She would spend hours reading fanfiction, where she came across and fell in love with the idea of mates. When mom found out she sat us down – all of us, Cora too – and explained that as much as being a 'wolf might make us feel attraction stronger mates were not real.”

Stiles knows how hard it is for Derek to share this, to talk about his family – to talk about Laura. And it means so much to him that Derek still does. That colors his voice, softens his tone, and makes him not just brush the man off.

“And I'm sure she was telling you the truth. But that's for you. There are different types of shifters, and different truths for each kind. These guys? They're wolves, yes, and a pack. But they're not **actually** werewolves, not in the way that you are one. They're shapeshifters whose sole form is that of a wolf.

“And for them, mates or imprints is very much a thing. In short, to them it is a gift from their spirits, in return for the wolf being a protector of the tribe.”

Oh, Stiles **could** tell Derek that what he and Embry has is something very much different than what they're implying – and what Derek believes – but he's not going to. He's not going to lie, no, but by letting the other man think that Stiles is completely and irrevocably bound to another in a romantic way he's protecting himself.

“And I'm not just parroting some line I've been fed. I can **feel** the connection. It's real.”

The expression taking over Derek's face at hearing those words... It makes Stiles officially cross the line between enjoying some payback and bona fide feeling bad for Derek. Of course, he **could** make it easier for Derek by telling the whole truth about his bond with Embry. But he won't. Doing so would only cause confusion, make it worse in the long run. Because Derek will think Stiles telling him that means something.

Stiles has spent so much energy today on making Derek understand that he's not coming back to Beacon Hills, nor is he coming back to Derek. The imprint only enforces that truth. To tell Derek that it's a platonic imprint, not a romantic or a sexual one, after all that? Would be taking several steps back.

He knows Derek well enough to know that the Alpha would take such an admission as an opening, a challenge. A “you could still have me”. And that's just not how it is. No, Derek doesn't scare him any more. Yes, it's looking like what's wrong with Derek has explanations and solutions, and he's getting help. But.

Even if everything else was to magically (or maybe not, because that word is rather bitter right now) sort itself out, there's still the fact that Derek belongs in Beacon Hills, with his pack, and Stiles...doesn't.

How he might feel doesn't matter in the face of that.

It can't be allowed to matter.

 

In the end Derek agrees to the terms set up by Jacob, as Stiles thought he would. Derek has a history of doing stupid things, sure, but he's not unintelligent. He knows he needs help, and he knows this is his best shot. That it might not be the most palatable solution... Well. That's another thing that can't be allowed to matter.

There's just one more thing Stiles needs to know, one more question to ask Derek.

“If Deaton's responsible, if he did this to you... Do you think he got to Scott as well? Because if he did, then **fuck** him watching out for werewolves. If he got his claws in my best friend I'm going to kill him.”

And Stiles isn't joking. To him the idea of trying to influence someone with magic the way Old Quil and Dr Bianchi suggests have been done to Derek is a kind of rape. And if Deaton put Scott through that – Scott, who trusts Deaton more than any adult except his mom... Then he's dead. It's not an empty threat, and with the exception of Derek, everyone present knows it.

“I don't know. It's possible, you know that as well as I do, but without pressuring him I can't see how we'd know for sure. Oh, we could check him over for magical influence, but then what? Deaton's not the only one dabbling in magic.”

And that's true. What's also true is that if Stiles ever finds out that Deaton had anything to do with Derek's state, then he's having Scott checked out no matter what it'll cost him, and Deaton better start running.

An angry Stilinski is not to play with.

(Come to think of it, Stiles is pretty sure that if he tells his dad that Dr Deaton magic-raped Scott, then the man better leave the continent. Because when everything is said and done? Stiles isn't the most dangerous Stilinski.)

 

Once Derek has gotten into his car and taken off, and the pack has scattered – one or two of them surely following Derek in their other shape, to make sure he actually leaves – Stiles looks at old Quil and asks one last question – one he doesn't actually want answered.

“Do you think there's something on me as well?”

His teacher looks back, calm in the way Stiles can never manage, and clearly thinks it over.

In the end he shrugs.

“It's possible. Or rather, I'd say it's possible there **was**. Right now? I don't think so. But if someone cast a spell – or several – on you to influence your actions, well, it would explain quite a few things, wouldn't it? It would explain even more if that magic started unraveling.

“After all, you have changed quite a bit since coming to us, haven't you?”

And that's certainly true. It's also, Stiles admits, a good thing.

 

_~ TBC ~_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...

Stiles spends the rest of the weekend immersed in his pack. He watches movies with them, goes running with Seth and Brady, meditates with Leah, and cooks with Emily. The one thing he doesn't do is train with Paul, as everyone – and yes, Stiles too – is convinced that adding violence, even in a training setting, on top of the emotional upheaval of Derek's visit is just asking for trouble.

It's using his pack as a shield between himself and everything painful, and it's exactly what he needs.

Come Sunday afternoon Stiles is considering skipping even more school just so he can stay on the rez just a little longer. It's not something he'd normally consider, but well. “Normal” doesn't include his freaking past showing up and trying to fuck him up. He can miss a couple of days of school and still be ahead.

Except Stiles knows himself well enough to recognize a dangerous trend. One day will become two, then three, and soon enough he'll probably start talking about transferring to the school on the rez. Which, no. It's not a bad school, even if it doesn't have all the classes Stiles is currently taking, but. It would be hiding, and he doesn't want to hide. Not really.

So he'll have one more night with the pack, and then back to Port Angeles and business as usual.

Only that's not what happens. Stiles has just managed to figure himself out when Jake tracks him down, Embry in tow. (Not that tracking him is any feat, considering Stiles is predictably enough inside his beloved greenhouse.)

“Stiles? Since you have school tomorrow I thought it might be best if you returned home now. Get some time to relax at home, get a good night's sleep... You know, peace and quiet after, well, everything.”

Stiles bristles, and is just about to inform the Alpha exactly how little say he has over Stiles's life – regardless of the fact that Stiles voluntarily called Jake **his** Alpha just days before – when Jake continues.

“I'd feel better if you took Embry with you, just in case. Besides, the two of you could probably do with some privacy to talk things over, right? And Embry? Anything Stiles tells you will be for your ears only. Do you understand?”

There's a, a vibration, sort of, in the air, and as Stiles runs through what just happened in his mind he realizes that it's probably pack magic. An Alpha order? If so it's a subtle one, but it seems to Stiles that Jake just made sure that Embry won't involuntarily share what Stiles might – or not – tell him.

 _Interesting_.

His head spins from what this might mean. Is it really possible to Alpha order secrecy, even through the pack bond? And if so, can it be revoked later, or does this really mean that Stiles can tell Embry anything he wants, and not worry about another wolf going berserk on his behalf?

The questions spill out, fast, and Jake smiles.

“It works with the pack bond, yes. That much I can promise you. As for revoking the order, I don't know. I've never tried, and I don't intend to.

“But Stiles, this means I'm trusting you to tell us on your own if there's anything about this that poses a danger to the packs, or the tribe. That's the price for your privacy, if you will.”

And yeah, Stiles gets it. He's more than okay with that bargain, because he's protective of them just as they are of him, and tells Jake exactly that.

“Right now? The only thing I can see that could be an issue would be if any of Derek's betas were to find out where I am, and decide to show up.

“I honestly don't think they would, and if they did, well, they're more of a nuisance than a danger.”

There's one exception to that though, and as much as Stiles doesn't want to talk about it, he needs to. His Alpha just decided to trust him with something big. That needs to go both ways. Besides. He's done worse – this weekend even.

“There's one possible exception: Derek's uncle Peter. Peter's smart enough to track me down, or have someone do it for him, should he want to. And he's definitely dangerous.

“He is power hungry, a longterm planner, an obvious sociopath, and more than willing to kill to get what he wants.

“He's also who's behind the trigger that had me try and kill Paul.”

Jake and Embry both look worried at that, and they should.

“Peter Hale killed his niece to steal her power, assaulted and bit my best friend, terrorized a teenage girl in order to come back to life, and he wanted to turn me into a werewolf. If he shows up here I'm going to shoot first and ask questions never, to be frank.

“I've killed, and honestly? I wish I hadn't. Even though Aiden attacked me with the intention of killing me I truly wish I hadn't had to kill him. But Peter? My only regret is that we didn't kill him better, and failing that, again. He's simply one of those people who needs to die.”

 

Coming home feels good, a lot better than Stiles thought it would. Of course, the fact that he's got Embry with him helps. Sure, he can take care of himself, defend himself too, but there's a safety in having pack around, and a relief to not **have** to do any of that.

Dinner ends up being delivered, since Stiles can't be bothered to use any of his energy for something not that talk, and unusually quiet. It's like they both only have the one thing to talk about, and know not to bring it up while eating.

There's only so long they can avoid it though. Stiles burrows into a corner of his bed, pillows and blankets making a comforting nest, and studiously avoids looking at Embry as he tells his story.

Well, most of it anyway. There's no need to share the ugliest details, not when Derek is going to be coming around again, and not when Stiles is still trying to come to terms with the revelation that the sexual relationship between him and Derek had happened because of a error in communication. So, while he does tell Embry about sleeping with Derek he doesn't say anything about doing it in exchange for protection and pack belonging.

“It just happened” is how he explains it, with additional comments about Derek's attractiveness and Stiles's longing to have someone, something.

The more he talks, the more worried Embry's expressions become.

“You liked him.” It's not a question. Nor is it an accusation, but Stiles still feels as if it is.

“Yeah. Kinda hard not to. We spent a lot of time saving each others' asses, you know. Just... He became the Alpha, and things changed. **He** changed, okay? I looked at him, and it was, you know, not something I saw at once. But. He became darker. More predatory. Scarier. So.

“I left. End of story I figured.” Stiles shrugs, trying to play it cool. It's not, nowhere near, but again. There are limits to what he's willing to tell his 'wolf.

“And you don't regret that? Don't wonder if things could have been different? Don't want to see what could be, now?”

And fuck.

“Do I wonder? Of course I do. I wonder about a lot of things, me and Derek included.” He hesitates, then plunges ahead. “I would let myself think, sometimes, on us – if there was a way there could be an us. And you know where I ended up? Every single time I fantasized about a reality where Derek and I could be healthy together?

“I found myself imagining a reality where Derek didn't lose his entire family, one painful death after the other, where he didn't have to kill his own uncle.” And never mind that without Peter turning Scott – or becoming an Alpha, and capable of doing so, for that matter – Stiles would most likely never have met Derek at all. “One where he got to grow up happy and loved instead of hurt and angry and afraid, constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for the person who burned his family alive to come for him too. Where he smiled because he was happy, not because it might get him something.”

 _A reality where Claudia Stilinski too were alive_ , is what he thinks but doesn't say. That's why Stiles gave up on the fantasies, in the end, because of his mom. Because as hard as living without her was, **is** , imagining a reality where she was alive, knowing it'll never happen, is even harder.

“Stiles... That's, that's not just liking someone. That's not a crush.”

“I know.” And he does. He's always known that. That just doesn't change anything, not even now.

“Doesn't matter though. Derek and I, we won't be an us. Couldn't even if we both wanted. He's still the Alpha of Beacon Hills. And me, I'm LaPush pack. I'm yours. And I'm not giving that up. Not for anything.”

Not when having Embry, and the pack, makes him feel more whole than he's been since losing his mom.

And that, as they say, is that.

 

Monday comes, and with it school, and Gavin. Stiles did shoot him a text once things had calmed down, but the minute he arrives on campus it's obvious that didn't help much. Gavin's equally worried about Stiles's past with Derek as he is with the present – and maybe the future as well – knowing what he does.

Keeping him from talking to Stiles's dad takes some effort, and a lot of fast-talking, as does convincing him that Stiles really is fine. A bit confused and shaken up, sure, but still fine. He's got the pack, and his doc. They'll make sure he stays fine.

All that remains then is for Stiles to try and go back to things as they were again. He goes to school and therapy and practice, he hangs out with his dad and his pack, and he tries his damnedest to live as if Derek Hale hadn't barged in and turned everything upside down.

It works remarkably well. Of course, considering his baseline is total clusterfuck, that doesn't say much really.

 

O---o--o---O

 

Dr Bianchi sends him a heads-up every time Derek books an appointment with her, and Embry or Jake lets him know if Derek's meant to come onto the rez. And Stiles, he just stays away. The first time Derek comes back Stiles even goes as far as to drag Embry with him and hop the ferry over to Victoria.

It feels a bit like overkill, especially since Derek did seem to accept that Stiles is out of his – and his pack's – grasp, but. Panic attacks aren't fun, and nearly killing someone because he's freaking out definitely isn't, and so Stiles is going to do whatever he needs to not have either of that happen. Again.

Plus, being far away means he's not in the way if everyone's wrong and Derek does try something. (Which is also the reason his dad is under guard during the entirety of Derek's stay.)

But nothing happens, and as time passes Stiles gets less frantic, and relaxes more. Still, he stays away.

 

Neither Dr Bianchi nor Old Quil provides him with updates on Derek's progress. For the doc it's about confidentiality, sure, but it's also because Stiles sees no reason to ask for news. If Derek becomes a threat, he'll be told. The same goes for if Derek's deemed “healed” enough for his visits to end. Other than that, there's no reasons Stiles should be told anything.

Right?

He gets one update though, just before Christmas. Old Quil keeps him after one of their lessons, and tells him there's been a breakthrough. A month of meditation and soul searching on Derek's part, as well as three visits with Dr Bianchi and old Quil respectively has yielded results. Solid ones.

They'd managed to loosen the magic surrounding Derek, trapping him really, until it was possible to grasp a thread and begin unraveling it. That's the good news. The bad? Everything points to Deaton being responsible. The unraveled magic was, as far as Derek can tell, tied to Scott. It was a compulsion to trust him, to forgive him any and all mistakes, and to view him as family. Who other than Deaton would want that?

It makes Stiles want to string Deaton up and roast him, slowly, because while Derek still cares for Scott, still considers him pack, even without the magic... Well, he's been robbed of his free will when it comes to Scott, hasn't he? Scott's pulled some truly shitty stuff towards Derek – especially when it comes to Gerard Argent – and gotten away much too easy for it. Not because Derek wanted to forgive, but because Deaton forced him to.

The thing is, Deaton being involved forces them to consider the possibility of Scott being under a spell of sorts as well. Stiles is the one who knows him the best, and as much as he's denied it, the truth is that Scott changed a lot between being bitten and leaving Beacon Hills. Stiles has always blamed wolfy instincts, but with magic being a possibility, knowing the way Scott has always trusted Deaton...

Yeah. Stiles spends an hour sharpening his knives that evening.

He's also the one who gets to call it. Derek's debating whether to tell Scott or not, afraid that the younger man won't believe him. It's a valid fear, Stiles knows, because Scott isn't just loyal, but also rather pigheaded. Chances are Scott'd dismiss any concerns out of hand, just because it's Deaton. If there's magic involved on top of that stubborn loyalty? Yeah, no.

His advise – conveyed through old Quil – is to not tell Scott anything, for now, but get him started on meditation as a first step. (A return message days later lets him know that Derek's chosen to do exactly that. It also says thanks.)

The last piece of bad news is that the magic old Quil managed to free Derek from was only a part of it all. What's left is, Stiles is told, is stronger, and not cast by the same person.

 _Only Derek Hale_ , he thinks. Only Derek would manage to get two – or more – different magic users to cover him in spells at the same time.

 

A huge bonus to come out of everything is that Stiles no longer fears being found. He already has been, by the very person he was hiding from, and nothing truly bad came out of it. Yes, he would still prefer it if none of the other pack members find out where he is, but with Derek brought to heel it's not that big of a problem any longer.

Because what, honestly, can the betas do? Nothing. Okay, they can go hunt him down and kill him, but with the exception of Peter that's not really something Stiles thinks would ever happen. None of them care enough to risk their own skin.

And then there's Peter... Yeah, Stiles told Jake that Peter was a risk, but given time to think it over closer Stiles can't help but think that Peter is too smart to show up. There's no reason for him to want Stiles more out of the way than he already is, not when it's obvious Stiles has no intention of returning to Beacon Hills. If Peter finds out where Stiles is, he'll find out that too.

No. As long as Stiles stays away, so will Peter. Especially if he doesn't know Derek's already found him – leading Derek to Stiles's door would after all not be in Peter's best interest.

All this means, in short, that Stiles doesn't have to be quite as careful when it comes to contacting Scott anymore. Derek swore that he didn't have any kind of taps on Scott's phone or email, and Stiles finds he believes it. Oh, he's still careful, since there's Peter and Danny to consider, but without Derek's approval those two are limited in what they can do.

So Scott gives his computer an overhaul that'll remove any spyware (should there be any), sets up an email account that's as safe as it gets, along with getting his own burner phone.

Scott's been part of Stiles's life for so long now, has been such an integral part, that being without him has been painful. If not for the pack, and Embry, and his father before that, Stiles is ready to admit that not having Scott could easily have become harmful as well. Having him back, fully, is like being able to breathe fully again, like spring after a long cold winter.

It's a piece of Stiles's soul healed and in place again, and it feels like being hugged.

It just so happens that with his newly restored connection to Scott comes news of what's happening back in Beacon Hills. The fact that Stiles might not want to know doesn't seem to even cross Scott's mind, and Stiles... Well, Stiles is so happy to have Scott back properly that he's not going to let anything dim that sunshine.

Besides, he thinks, it's kind of his own fault. He's the one to open the door. Though, in his defense? Stiles had no idea that a simple “so I heard a rumor that there's a new Hale in town” would lead to a torrent of information.

Apparently Scott's been spending quite a lot of time with Cora, whenever he's in Beacon Hills, and has gotten really close with her. Stiles spends more than a few seconds struck dumb by it, until he catches on. Scott doesn't say anything, not outright, but the way he talks about Cora? Yeah, Scotty-boy has another crush. And from the sounds of it? This could be just as bad as Allison.

It might be worse maybe, even, considering who Cora is. Dating an Argent had been one of Scott's least intelligent ideas **ever** , what with the whole werewolf hunter thing, but lusting after your Alpha's baby sister? Your Alpha's back-from-the-presumed-dead baby sister? Stiles thinks Scott might be truly courting death here.

He doesn't say anything though, since there's a huge difference from the Allison crush in that that Scott is obviously being careful. Again, Scott doesn't actually come out and say it, but from what he does let slip – and what he doesn't – Stiles can tell that Scott's matured some when it comes to falling in love. Having Allison go Dark Side on them has opened Scott's eyes to everything not being black and white, and as far as Stiles is concerned that's a good thing.

And maybe Cora can be a good thing too – even if he's reserving judgment on that. (Of course, it's quite possible that Stiles's reservations has more to do with his own issues with Derek than with this girl he's never even met.)

She is helping Scott with meditation though (making Stiles grateful) as well as being a werewolf in general. Werewolfiness 201, maybe?

In between all the talk about Cora there's the occasional news about the others. From the stories Scott tells Stiles thinks that apparently now that Derek is better he's doing his best to get them **all** on the right track.

Hearing that warms Stiles's heart. Not because it's the right thing – because honestly, he doesn't really care much about what happens with the betas, not after everything – but because it proves he made the right choice, asking for help for Derek.

From what Stiles gathers, Isaac and Boyd are both losing some of the attitude that made him dislike them, and even though the majority of Scott's time seems to be dedicated to Cora he's obviously also taking the time to be friends with both of the boys too.

There's no mention of Peter, which Stiles is relieved by, but Scott does have some interesting news about Danny. Apparently Derek's looking for a pack to take Danny on while at college, while secretly hoping that Danny will stay with them even after graduation, or go omega. It's not something that common knowledge in the pack, but Derek did tell Cora, who in turn told Scott.

(And yeah, that little nugget of information is very telling to Stiles.)

He takes note of all the times Scott mentions Cora, speculates what it means that she obviously tells Scott things that are at least semi-secret, and even has a private bet with himself, how long it'll take for Scott to admit to his crush. To Stiles, obviously, but also to Cora. By the time the call comes on January 1st, about a surprise kiss when ringing in the New Year Stiles's first four possible dates has already come and gone.

 

O---o--o---O

 

The first time Stiles sees Derek after that November day is in March. He's lazying about in bed when the phone rings, and doesn't think twice about answering even when he sees it's Embry. Instead he just smiles at the thought of his wolf being protective and checking up on him.

“Stiles. You need to get here, immediately. Drive as fast as you can while being safe.”

And that makes Stiles worry. Derek is supposed to be in LaPush right now, and that means Stiles stays home. **No one** has been more insistent that Stiles stay as far away from Derek as possible as Embry, and for him to ask this... It's not good. In fact, it's probably so beyond not good that Stiles should maybe not drive at all.

He doesn't really have an option though, and so he just agrees, no questions asked.

When Stiles reaches the border to the rez Embry's standing there in the middle of the road waiting. Apparently whatever happened is bad enough, or urgent enough, that it couldn't wait for Stiles to get all the way, and that scares him.

“You need to park here – we'll cut through the forest.”

“What happened?”

“Derek was with Old Quil, working on trying to unravel that damned magic on him. Apparently they had a breakthrough.” Which should be good though, right? “Whatever it was, Derek **freaked** **out**. It took Sam, Quil **and** Paul to herd him somewhere safe.” Which really does nothing to calm Stiles down, as he knows full well what those three are capable of.

“You're not going to be in any danger, Stiles. You know I wouldn't have called you if I wasn't sure of that. But we need to calm him down, and right now you're the only shot we have. If that doesn't help we're going to have to call his sister.”

And fuck. That's **really** bad then.

As he clings to Embry's back on their journey through the forest Stiles tries not to panic, but it's damned difficult. They've been worried about the magic on Derek since day one, and no one's known what unraveling it would do. Nothing good, it sounds like.

When they arrive at a clearing, far enough out that no one will come investigate any strange sounds, Stiles is met with a very unsettling sight. The first thing he sees is a pile of torn bloody clothes, including what looks like a leather jacket. The second is five of his pack members, and the third... The third is a clearly distraught wolf, black with red eyes.

It's smaller than the LaPush wolves, and it doesn't take the eyes for Stiles to realize that it's Derek. Only Derek's never managed a full shift before, not as far as Stiles knows, and this is... Well. It's something.

He opens his mouth to comment on it, because come on, who wouldn't, only that's when Derek notices his presence. What happens then is eerie. Derek whines, a pained sound, drops to his belly and crawls towards Stiles, head so far down his nose practically drags along the ground.

It looks so much like that time in the hospital, only so so much worse.

It's painful to watch, and Stiles just wants Derek to stop. To come back to himself. But instead he gets to stand there and watch, biting his lip as Derek debases himself before him. Once the wolf reaches Stiles it whines again, and then carefully, hesitantly butts its nose against Stiles's foot, as if it's begging.

It causes Stiles's soul to ache, and he falls down on his knees and stretches out his hand towards wolf-Derek, slowly, carefully, giving him a chance to back away. He doesn't, but when Stiles touches his fur the wolf whines again, and somehow manages to look even more pathetic.

It's heartbreaking, is what it is.

In the end Stiles ends up sitting down, Derek's head in his lap, a hand running slowly over matted fur as low sorrowful whines escape the shaking wolf. Embry phases, carefully, and stretches out behind Stiles, giving him a backrest and some much needed warmth. (The implied support is also welcome, but. March. Outside. **Cold**.)

He loses track of time, caring about nothing other than trying to make Derek calm enough to find his way back to his human skin. Being able to shift like this, it's wow, it's awesome, but Stiles thinks it's also a sign of something being very, very wrong.

By the time the shaking wolf in Stiles's lap returns to an equally shaking – and so, so very naked – human form it's been hours judging from the sun. And wow, that's Dr Bianchi standing over there by Jake.

That brings home exactly how serious all of this must have been in a way nothing else can. Sophia Bianchi isn't welcome on the rez. The pack has stated outright that while they are grateful for the help she's provided Stiles, they are never going to be **that** grateful. For her to be here now... It takes everything Stiles has in him to not panic.

_This is bad._

_Oh fuck, this is so bad._

He manages to coax Derek up and into some clothes – borrowed, for obvious reasons – and then they slowly make their way out of the forest. Neither he nor Derek is in particularly great shape after the last few hours, but Stiles still makes a point of walking on his own two legs. Any of the wolves would have gladly given him a ride, he knows it, but with Derek like this... Better not to shake him further.

Plus, after having sat still on the ground for so long Stiles's body needs to move in order to limber up some.

Once they come out of the woods Stiles is even more worried. They're in LaPush, and Dr Bianchi is still with them. There is nothing about that that doesn't make warning bells go off. They head towards the Call house, presumably because of Embry's connection to Stiles. If not for Stiles, after all, neither Derek not Dr Bianchi would be allowed to set foot on the rez. That doesn't make them welcome though, especially not the doc. Stiles suspects no one else wants her smell in their home – maybe not Embry either. Still, whatever the reason, Stiles will feel safe there.

When they reach the house Jake and the others veer off. Embry stays long enough to grant the use of his home, and to assure Stiles he won't be listening in, but will be close enough should he be needed. Translation: should Derek freak out again.

Inside it's decided that Dr Bianchi and Derek will talk in the living room, for as much privacy as is possible. Stiles doesn't mind, thinks in fact that it's best to have the doc sort out Derek as much as she can before anything else gets dumped on Stiles. He's still trying to come to terms with what happened in the woods.

Once the living room door closes Stiles goes upstairs. He'd had a furry space heater at his back, and some torn-up clothes underneath him, but that doesn't change the fact that he was sitting outside on the ground for a long time while dressed for bed. Plus, chances are some of the blood on Derek's clothes are now on his.

He doesn't quite feel comfortable taking a shower, no matter how much he wants one, not under the circumstances. But a change of clothes goes a long way, and will have to do.

Dressed in warm dry clothes with one of Embry's large hoodies on top Stiles finds his way back down, and into the kitchen.

There's a text on his phone informing him that Emily's on her way over with food – for which Stiles is eternally grateful, since he can't scrounge up the energy to fix something himself, but desperately needs it – and so he settles for making tea.

By the time Dr Bianchi and Derek joins him Stiles has eaten, started on a second pot of tea, and is nibbling on a muffin. One look at Derek has him immediately rising to fix the man a cup of tea of his own, liberally laced with honey, and another one of Emily's wolf-sized muffins while his own turns to lead in his stomach.

Because Derek? Looks even worse than Stiles thought he would.

There shouldn't be any trace of Derek's breakdown in the woods, not with healing, so the redness of his eyes now must mean that he's cried more.

Oh god. This is so very, very bad.

One breakdown is...unusual, but understandable. A second? Makes Stiles want to retreat. Hide. Disappear behind reinforced walls, with mountain ash and mistletoe and wolf's-bane, and every weapon he can get his hands on. Scream for his pack to come protect him.

(It also makes his heart soften – and that scares him even more. He can't afford that. He just can't.)

Instead he just waits. He'll know what the disaster is soon enough. No need to go chase the bad news down.

“How can you look at me – even bare to be in the same room as me, after what I've done?”

There's despair in Derek's voice, and Stiles steers away from his first instinct, to be be flippant.

“Would you do it again? Today, with the magic on you gone,” because there can't be more, there just can't, “would you hurt me again?”

“No!”

Derek almost screams the answer, and Stiles can still read him well enough to see the anguish, the disgust, and the truth in it.

“Then that's your answer. I can look at you, because in a way that wasn't you. It wasn't your choice.”

And he believes that. Not just in the “I have to believe this or I'll go nuts” way, but really truly believes it. Sure, Derek can be violent, and aggressive, and kind of a bastard, but Stiles knows there's more to him. Add everything he's learned about packs and bonds and magic? He knows that how Derek acted wasn't really by choice. Some of it could have happened anyway, yes, but not all of it, and definitely not to that degree.

Derek's staring at the floor, still radiating misery and guilt – and god, _the guilt is strong in this one_ – and Stiles, Stiles just wants to get somewhere.

“So? Did you have something you wanted to share with me? Because honestly? Today was, well, kinda intense, and I would be really grateful if someone could explain. You know, beyond 'Derek had a breakthrough, followed by a freak-out, then a breakdown'. Please.”

Derek's voice is low, rougher than usual, and his words are careful.

“I was with old Quil, meditating, and I could **feel** him grasp something and **pull**. And then... Then it was like being ravaged by lightning, and doused in cold water, and ripped into by claws and fangs.

“And then, when my senses were functioning again, it was like... Like a fog had lifted, I guess. I could look at my actions, towards you, and see them for what they were. For how cruel they were – how cruel I was.”

Stiles tries to protest, but Derek shushes him. _Always the martyr_ , Stiles thinks. Which is a good sign that Derek's truly not controlled by magic any longer, by the way.

“And I **knew** who was responsible.

“When Isaac came to live with me things were...chaotic. That lead to him getting behind on his schoolwork, which really wasn't something he could afford. So, once things calmed down I started meeting with his teachers, for progress updates and for information about what I could do to help.

“And that's how, after the summer break, I met Jennifer Blake.”

The name's familiar. A quick search in his mental files tells Stiles he had her for English, those last few months, and shows him a blurry image of a pretty, yet kind of mousy woman. Very passionate about her subject though.

“She was...very helpful, very understanding about Isaac's circumstances. She offered to get him tutoring, offered lists of online resources, offered to meet up out of school so she could coach me... After a while I realized she wasn't just trying to help Isaac – she was flirting with me.

“I was flattered, obviously. She was attractive, and kind, and could easily have found someone. And she wanted me.”

Which, Stiles is more than aware, is extremely seductive on its own.

“I'm not going to say I wasn't tempted, for all of those reasons, but I did turn her down. If things had been different, then maybe, but they weren't. Dragging someone into our world, someone who had no knowledge, no defense? It would have been beyond reckless.”

Stiles thinks of Gavin, of having this very argument with himself over that, and nods. Derek's right. It would be reckless. And cruel.

“Besides, I had you.”

Stiles bites his lip to stop himself from going into a full-out rant about how Derek didn't **have** him, and how even though they were sleeping together Derek shouldn't have let that stop him from getting with someone else, someone willing. There's nothing to be gained from going down that route. Nothing except tearing into Derek again, ripping open barely scabbed-over wounds, and Stiles doesn't need Dr Bianchi's warning look to know that's a bad idea.

Besides. He's lost the desire to hurt Derek.

So, let Derek talk of their past that way. Arguing about word use won't change a thing.

“She didn't get angry, or push, when I turned her down, but instead made it obvious that she was still interested if things should change. Not even her finding out I was seeing another man made her truly give up.

“Then you left. Jennifer, she offered to...comfort me. Again, tempting, but I believed you'd come back.

“And then she showed her true colors. She didn't come to Beacon Hills for a job, no, she was there on a mission. She wanted to destroy the Alpha pack, and she wanted to recruit me and my pack to help her do it.”

And that, that... Stiles can't make it fit in his head. The image of his former English teacher, a woman Derek just described as defenseless not even two minutes ago, going after the Alpha pack? The only thing stopping him from laughing out loud is the knowledge of the mess that is their lives.

A hunter for an English teacher? It makes the kind of twisted sense that's not. You know, what with Victoria Argent, Gerard Argent, and well, Harris. Only in Beacon Hills though, only in Beacon Hills. (Or so he fervently hopes.)

“See, before she became Jennifer Blake her name was Julia, and she was Kali's emissary – and her lover."

Stiles stares, mouth open but silent. **That** , he did not expect to hear. He was going for hunter, one hundred percent. Government agent, sure. (Why not, right?) Former pack-member? Not so much.

"When Kali decided to join the Alpha pack she first had to kill her old one. That was the rule, remember? To gain the power boost every single one of them had to die, by her hand. Including the woman she loved. Only for some reason she failed. It could have been that Kali simply couldn't bring herself to do the job properly, hoping Julia would survive, or that her love made her sloppy, or that Julia's magic intervened. Either way, Julia survived, just as eager for revenge as Peter was.”

A part of Stiles doesn't blame her, not really, but. He lived through Peter, and his quest for revenge. Others didn't. Something tells him things would not have been much better with Miss Blake-or-whatever. There is justice, and then there's revenge. They rarely work well together, Stiles thinks.

“And so she wanted to kill them all, even the twins who didn't join until years after what happened to her – and she wanted to recruit the pack as muscle. I understand her, her pain and her rage, I truly do, but I wasn't going to help her. I could **never** accept her method.”

And if that's not ominous, then Stiles doesn't know the meaning of that word.

"In order to become strong enough she turned to human sacrifice. She killed eight people, that we know of, but most likely there were more, before she came to Beacon Hills."

 _Wait._ His doe-eyed English teacher was a mass-murderer?

Stiles should be surprised, waits for it even. And then he holds back a snort. Of **course** he's not surprised. Allison had been a freaking Disney Princess, and Stiles remembers with perfect clarity what **she** did.

(Dead moms are no excuse. If it was, then what would Stiles have done? Or Isaac, for that matter. And let's not even get started on Derek.

Besides. It wasn't like she hadn't started going off the rails even before Mrs Argent had killed herself. Kate unlocked that door.)

So no. Serial killer teacher who looks like she'd still cry over Bambi doesn't really surprise him. Nor does the fact that she wanted to use Derek. Been there, done that to the extreme, yeah?

“That why she tried to seduce you? To make you help?”

Derek nods, and Stiles snorts. Well fuck. Is there a sign somewhere on Derek, one invisible to anyone not insane? “Please use me as a tool for murder, preferably with a side of basically rape”?

“Wow. Talk about fucked up. I'm guessing she didn't intend to take no for an answer? And what about the fact that most of them were already dead by then, did that stop her?”

“No, she... That time, she pushed.” Understatement, Stiles is sure. “She didn't succeed, but she tried really hard. And telling her we'd taken most of them out didn't make a difference. Her new plan was to have us chase down Aiden – because we didn't know he was dead, remember – and of course Kali, and well. Hand them over to her, gift-wrapped, basically.”

They share a look, both of them suspecting that it wouldn't have ended there, and then Derek looks away again.

Stiles doesn't blame him. Sharing something like this... Well, it hurts. Fuck, it's hurting **Stiles** to listen, so it has to be even worse for Derek. Not looking into another person's eyes might be the only thing making it possible for Derek to get the words out at all.

Still. There's so much to take in, and all of it's spinning around in Stiles's head, some of it making sense, some not.

Like for instance the whole thing with Miss Blake and her magic and what she wanted it to accomplish...

“I don't, sorry, but I just don't get it. If Miss Blake was so powerful, then why didn't she just...make you love her? Why go through all of this instead?”

Derek doesn't answer, and something tells Stiles that he's got an answer, only he doesn't really expect Stiles to believe him. Instead its Dr Bianchi that speaks up.

“She was, from all accounts, **immensely** powerful. But, magic has limits, you know? Now, taking into account that this still isn't my area of expertise, I've done some research, and I have a couple of theories.

“Back in the beginning, you might remember that I told you that the packbond couldn't create something out of nothing. That's true with magic as well – unless you have almost unlimited amounts of power. Jennifer Blake **did** **have** that power. She'd stolen most of it, true, but she had it. If she'd wanted to, she could definitely have focused it all on Derek and twisted his feelings and wishes to become what she wanted.”

Dr Bianchi looks very disapproving, and Stiles once again get that feeling that she's dangerous, and it's probably a very good idea that Miss Blake isn't around for Dr Bianchi to get her hands on.

“The thing was, she was also using her power for a lot of other things.

“First of all, she was hiding her true nature from other magic users, such as your Dr Deaton, and masking her presence from the Alpha pack. She was also using it for a very powerful glamor.

“While she survived Kali's attack Julia was horribly scared, and it was only the use of magic that allowed her to hide that. But just looking like her old self wasn't good enough for her. Not when she knew Kali was out there, and might come back to finish the job. So she changed her looks along with her name, and she used magic to become someone the Alpha pack would overlook.

“When she decided to come to Beacon Hills, to finally come after the Alpha pack, she strengthened those spells.

“That took a lot of power though, and she was also storing up more power for when she was going to attack the Alphas. And so she couldn't spare enough to make Derek hers. Instead she chose the long way, so to speak.”

Stiles isn't liking what he's hearing. A magic user of that caliber, hellbent on revenge? Her “long way” is unlikely to be any better than the fast version. Hell, what's he thinking? He lived through what's 99% sure to be that long way. It sucked.

It's Derek's time to explain now, apparently, even if he still can't quite manage to look Stiles – or the doc, for that matter – in the eyes.

“Jennifer made me think favorably of her, and see you as a burden. She reached inside of me, found all my fears, all my resentment and all my convictions that what we were was wrong, and she ...amplified that.” Derek says, voice tired and shaky.

“She took everything I had that was connected to you and in some way negative, and she **worked** it. Once you were gone I would have been even easier prey for her. If it hadn't been for the pack rallying, helping me chase her out... Even that almost wasn't enough. It honestly wasn't until Scott showed up that the tide turned.”

Which yeah, makes sense. Scott can be stubborn as fuck, and a couple of other not so great things at times too, but he's got a great moral compass, and he's a **good** **person**. It's not hard to imagine that bolstering Derek enough to give Miss Blake's witchyness a proper fight.

(He doesn't like hearing that they chased her off though. Call him coldblooded and callous, but he'd prefer it if she was dead. Her kind? Always comes back. Just look at Peter. And fuck, now he's imagining the two of them working together, and he wants to throw up. Damn.)

“And yeah, she probably worked her magic on you too. That fear of talking to me? The way you ran? Chances are she was playing with your feelings to cause that too."

And that...makes a horrible kind of sense.. After all, Miss Blake had had easy access to him, and the longer the semester progressed, the more annoyed she'd looked when it came to him.

Stiles had shrugged it off, thinking she had gone the route of many teacher before her, but what if she'd figured out that **he** was who Derek was sleeping with...

Something **still** doesn't make sense about all of this. Why would it be so hard for her to take Derek? Oh, Stiles isn't saying he wants her to have succeeded, just.. He doesn't see any reason for her to not have. With how Derek felt, about Stiles, and about being with a man – a boy... It should have been easy, is just all.

When he asks that very question Derek goes red in the face, and ducks down his head again, staring at the floor. He mumbles something, then raises his voice a little and starts talking about inherent monogamy, and belonging, and pack, and loyalty – Stiles thinks – and it all makes no sense.

And so he does what he does best, and he pushes. Kicks, for all intents and purposes, the hornets' nest.

“I still don't get it. Derek, if the magic was meant to make you **want her** , then why didn't you just stop what you and I were doing and just, **go** to her?”

Because that's what was supposed to happen, right? Someone cast a spell to get a certain result, and that was what happened. That Derek, with all of his issues, who didn't even **like** that Stiles was a boy, hadn't just dropped him like he was on fire and ran to Miss Blake, that made no sense what so ever.

Derek still won't lift his eyes of the ground, and clearly doesn't want to talk about it. But after a minute of silence – and staring – he mumbles something.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“She could have created something from practically nothing, sure, but since she didn't want to use all her power, her magic wasn't strong enough for an outright love-spell. Instead it was just suggestions. And that meant she couldn't replace what was already there. Not without using enough force that I might have felt it, or that Deaton could have picked up on what she was doing.”

And that... Well, **that** makes sense, magically speaking. Not that Stiles is an expert, but he does know enough to tell that much. Only, there's still something that makes absolutely **no** sense.

“The way you're talking, you make it sound like the reason Miss Blake didn't manage to get her witchy claws into you was that you already liked someone else. But if you did, then I don't get why you didn't hook up with **them** instead of **me**.”

The topic is beginning to make Stiles feel very uncomfortable, and he only has two ways of dealing with that. Being mean is probably not a good idea, not with Derek's emotional balance so out of whack, and his anchor probably being shaky right now, so flippant it is.

(Also, see hornets' nest.)

“So what are you trying to say here, Derek? That you had **feelings** for me?”

It's really just something he throws out, a joke meant to try and get Derek out of balance, but it backfires on him. Because Derek?

Derek freezes, and gets that look. The “busted” one. And he's even **blushing**. Not much, just his ears, but it's enough to be noticeable, and to completely throw Stiles.

“You... You **did**?” And wow, that's just not something he can wrap his head around. Which, naturally, is when his mouth decides to run away with him and take this one step further.

“Wait. You did, or you **do**?” And Derek grows even more uncomfortable as his blush spreads further.

(And there's the sting.)

 

_**~ TBC ~** _

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – except for a red hoodie...
> 
> AN: I finished this while influenced by a funeral, Eurovision and at least one glass of wine too many. Chances are I'll come back for editing. (The chapter passes my spellcheck, which doesn't say too much, and I've covered my outline. But.) Also, there's a chapter count. ~~Finally, please remember that killing the writer means no getting the last chapters.~~

**...As Stupid Does**

**part 3 of the Stupid ‘verse**

**15/?**

 

Stiles can be a dick. He knows it, owns it – hell, even enjoys it occasionally. Right now... Right now he doesn't enjoy it at all.

Looking at Derek, seeing him embarrassed and resigned, with the realization of the man's feelings so fresh, makes Stiles revise his judgment of himself. He's a bag of dicks. A bag of diseased dicks even.

There had been absolutely no reason for him to push Derek about his feelings – especially not when it had been fairly obvious that Derek was talking about him. You know, obvious unless you're completely oblivious, and called Stiles.

Also, Stiles doesn't have the right. Not when he's spent every moment since Derek's appearance back in November making it crystal clear that he's no longer available to Derek, and never will be again. Oh, and when he's practically been shoving his bond with Embry up in Derek's face, rubbing his snout in it.

Yeah. Big bag of diseased dicks.

And Derek's just sitting there, taking it. Feeling like it's nothing but what he deserves, from the looks of it. Stiles feels like someone's punched him in the stomach, punched their way into his stomach even, and now there's a cold fist squeezing his insides.

“I'm sorry. You don't... I shouldn't have asked – I had no right. I'm really, really sorry.” And then, because Derek deserves as much, he adds softly “I really didn't mean to hurt you.” _Not this time_ hangs unspoken between them, and the air is so heavy Stiles can barely breathe.

It's obvious they need to switch directions, and equally obvious that Derek's in no shape to do it, and Stiles just wants to break out in hysterical laughter because him changing topics was **exactly** what landed them here. He's got nothing. _Except_...

“You said you ran Miss Blake off, yeah? Any idea where she went? Or, for that matter, if she's still up to her old tricks? I'm really not liking the idea of someone with her power running around free.”

And by “not liking” he means he hates it, and thinks maybe it would have been better for everyone had Miss Blake's next forwarding address been six feet under.

“We didn't ask, no. But she should be harmless now.”

Stiles snorts. Suuuure. From human sacrifice to harmless, that makes sense. Not. Derek finally looks at him, familiar scowl in place.

“I know what you're thinking. Give me a little credit, would you? Before we let her leave Deaton bound her powers. Also, he's got eyes and ears out there, the kind who knows magic. If she steps out of line again, she's dead.”

As reassuring as that should be, there's just one problem with it.

“You trust Deaton with this? Because I don't. Not after what he pulled with you, and possibly with Scott. Are you sure he bound her, or did he just let you believe it?”

Paranoia is a lovely thing, really. It **does** serve its purposes when dealing with Beacon Hills though. From the looks of it Derek's thoughts are running along the same path.

“You're right. Trusting Deaton could be dangerous. I'll look into it when I get back. Thank you, Stiles.”

And wow. That's... Those are not words Stiles is used to hearing from Derek. Not even after saving the man's life. He flushes a little, stammers out a platitude, and looks for a new direction to take off in to avoid further embarrassment.

There's no need, because apparently Derek feels it's time to leave, meaning Dr Bianchi leaves too, and soon Stiles is alone with his tea and his thoughts. It's not a situation he enjoys.

_Derek Hale has feelings for me._

It doesn't sound any more real even when repeated over and over again.

 

That night when Stiles goes to bed he spends a long time staring at the ceiling. Every time he closes his eyes he's treated to the image of Derek being exposed, and it fucking **hurts**. He even finds himself regretting leaving Beacon Hills. Derek likes him. Wants him. Just like Stiles does him. And now, because Stiles has made his home elsewhere, none of that matters.

It's only for a minute though. Because yes, Stiles kind of wishes he could have a second chance with Derek, but at the same time he knows that the only reason he feels that way is because of how they've both changed. Healed.

And that healing would never have happened had he stayed. Before he left they were a fucking accident waiting to happen, and it would not have been pretty. Stiles left for reasons. Good ones.

So. Stiles allows himself a minute for regret, another ten to feel sorry about it all, and then he tells himself to buckle up and move on. It's not going to be easy, no, but he can do it. He's done harder things after all.

He's just not sure if he can dismiss the guilt that lingers, heavy and sour in his stomach.

 

Things change, after. Derek's relationship with Stiles's pack is easier, more friendly, and sometimes Stiles see them laughing together. Because that's another change – Stiles stops avoiding Derek. He doesn't go look for him, no, but he stops avoiding the rez, and the pack, when Derek is visiting.

At first they don't really talk. Stiles is jittery, and flails more than usual, and Derek often reverts to that mono-syllabic caricature of himself that Stiles used to mock. But as time passes they both relax, and move forward – or maybe it's backwards – to a place where they're not quite friends, but more than friendly.

Oh, it's not easy, and there are several instances where one of them fall back into snide comments, or says something unintentionally hurtful, but on the whole they're making progress. Derek even makes sure to bring a present for Stiles's 19th birthday. It's a Captain America t-shirt – obviously chosen with care to not be too much, while still catering to Stiles's personality, and more than a bit impersonal. Stiles just thank you, with a sincere smile, and puts it into rotation.

It pales next to his gift from the pack though – all gifts do. Because his pack? Is giving him a **home**.

Or well, it goes something like this: thanks to the pack and the Elders the empty plot of land next to the Call's will now be Stiles's to use. He won't own it, and whatever he builds on it will revert to the tribe once he passes – or no loner has need of it – but it'll be his in all the ways that matter. Once he can afford to build a house there the pack will help him. It's quite possibly the best present ever, and Stiles can barely contain his shock or his joy.

Oh, it's not an unselfish gift, far from – not since Stiles has made a commitment to teach at the rez school once he graduates college – but it's still awesome.

The next time he sees Derek Stiles drags him over, words spilling as fast as Stiles can think them, thoughts about what kind of house to build, about how he wants it to be as energy-efficient and low-cost as possible, and about the garden he wants, and it takes him much too long to realize that the expression on Derek's face is tinged with sadness. Because while Stiles didn't intend it that way, his impassioned speech only serves as one more reminder that he's not leaving.

 

When Stiles graduates there's an envelope waiting for him. It's signed with Derek's and Cora's names, and contains a gift-card for a set of solar-panels – just the kind for Stiles's planned tiny house. Stiles turns the card over and over in his hands for a long time.

Because while it might be labeled “graduation gift”, it's so much more. It's **acceptance** – Derek's way of saying, without having to find the words, that he accepts and respects Stiles's choice. That he's bowing out.

And that, well, that fucking hurts.

The truth is, Stiles's feelings for Derek, now that he's over the pain and the anger and the fear, are complicated as fuck. Also, they're pretty much useless, because like he keeps telling himself, Derek's place is in Beacon Hills and Stiles's is here. LaPush is LaPush, and Beacon Hills is Beacon Hills, and never shall the two meet. Or, you know, something.

That means getting over it, getting over **Derek** , isn't just the smart solution; it's the only solution.

That doesn't mean it's easy though, and so Stiles compromises with himself. He'll allow himself this one summer, will allow his feelings to stay as they are for a few more months, and then, when it's time to go off to college, he'll bury them and leave them behind.

(It hurts, making that promise to himself, but. That's just how it's got to be.)

 

It is, as so often is the case, Scott who crashes Stiles's plans. (They've done it to each other ever since they first met, so why break the habit?) Of course, Stiles has no idea that that's what waiting when he answers his phone. He's expecting Scott to freak-out babble about his impending move back to Beacon Hills, and what it'll mean for his relationship with his mom, and with Cora – not turn Stiles's world on its head.

“Soooo, ehm, can I tell you a secret? But you can't tell anyone, seriously, **promise** Stiles, okay?”

“Sure, bro. What's the emergency? You popping the question to Cora or?”

It's a joke, obviously. Once upon a time Stiles might have had a silent bet with himself about whether or not Scott'd make it through high school without giving Allison a ring, but. That had been then, and now's different. **Scott** is different.

Only there's no protest, just silence.

“ **Scott**? Buddy...”

“No! I mean, yes, but not **now**! We're only just starting to live in the same town, and we haven't really spent any time together during, you know, real life. So it's much too soon for that. But, I was thinking... If we work out like this, and we're still good a year from now, then yeah. Maybe.

“I need to actually live by myself for a while, but for next year I was hoping Cora and I could find a place together, and if that works, then yeah. Because I do want to be with her. I think we could be good for each other.”

Stiles takes a relieved breath, and nods, before remembering that he needs to speak. Phone call, not Skype.

“Yeah, I think you are too. And that sounds like a solid plan. So was that it then? Because you kinda made it sound more urgent.”

“What? Oh, yeah right. No, that was just...sidetrack. Once she graduates, Derek's going to step aside as Alpha on Cora's behalf.”

Stiles's heart actually stops beating. No one can convince him differently. He collapses onto his bed, and tries to get his breathing in order.

“Stiles?”

“Sorry, wait.” He employs a few of his tricks for panic attacks – which this isn't, but. Calm is calm. “Sorry, I was just – yeah. Shock.”

“I know! I reacted that way too. Except, I don't know, I don't think my heart did what yours did. My brain took a hike though, for sure. But yeah.”

“Derek's giving up being the Alpha? You're sure?”

“Yeah. Or well, Cora is. She came to me about it, because well, she needed to talk, and unless something changes – drastically – I'll be her second once she steps up.”

“But **why**?”

“I don't know. Cora didn't say, and I didn't want to push. Just, she **did** say she wanted Derek to have some freedom.”

Those words will echo in Stiles's head for days. Freedom.

The thing is, Stiles? He doesn't hear freedom. He hears “free of Beacon Hills”. And that does things to his treacherous heart.

 

Of course, since that's how Stiles's life functions, Derek arrives for one of his “visits” less than 48 hours after Scott's call. Stiles is still rattled, still trying to make sense of things. He knows Derek can tell something's off, and makes no attempt to pretend otherwise. “I've got some shit to figure out,” he says, which is nothing but the truth.

 

Stiles spends just about every free minute until Derek's next visit trying to do exactly that. Figure it out.

He goes over everything, every memory, every interaction with Derek, every fear, every wish, every single scrap of **something** , and he does it again and again and again. Because he's getting nowhere. It takes him the better part of a week to realize exactly why that is.

It's one thing to admit to having feelings for Derek, and to accept that Derek has feelings for him. That was easy, because when push came to shove Stiles didn't have to do anything about it. He could look at it all and have it mean nothing, because in the end distance and pack belonging would always separate them. Only now he's looking at a future where Derek won't be the Alpha, and all those obstacles will become nothing.

And that's terrifying.

Unlike Stiles Cora hasn't been held back in school, and she'd just finished her first year of college. She'll graduate in two years. Two years, and then Derek won't be tied to Beacon Hills in the same way anymore.

If Derek's free to do as he wishes and go where he please, if being together is something they can do without Stiles being forced to return to his own personal Hellmouth... Then suddenly it stops being a question of “if only” and instead becomes a matter of what Stiles (and Derek, but that's his shit to figure out, not Stiles's) truly wants, and what he's willing to do about it.

It's going to come down to them, and not their circumstances.

That's quite possibly the most scary thought Stiles has had in years.

He spends countless hours toiling in his garden-to-be mulling it over, allowing his mind to run free while his body is busy.

 

It's August before Stiles feels comfortable talking to Derek about the subject. Or well, comfortable-ish. It's still not easy, and Stiles procrastinates by dragging Derek first to see the skeleton that's his house-to-be (it's got walls and a roof, and that's it), then for a walk along the beach, before stopping dead and cutting into the middle of Derek's description of , well, something.

“Scott said you were going to abdicate.” _Smooth, Stilinski._ _ **Real**_ _smooth. Dammit._ “Sorry. I meant to be a lot more diplomatic, just. You know me.”

“Yeah. I do.” There's hint of a fondness in the words, and Stiles relaxes slowly.

“Soooo... I thought you were happy being the Alpha? Why hand it over to Cora?”

“It's... Laura, Laura didn't become the Alpha after mom,” and Stiles only just manages to keep his mouth from falling open, because Derek's talking about his family, “because she was older than me, just like mom didn't become the Alpha because she was older than Peter.

“It's never about seniority, but instead about who is or isn't suitable. Mom knew for years that it would be Laura taking over from her. That's why I never got the same lessons as her, because what was the point? I was never meant to be Alpha, and I never wanted to either. No one could imagine a scenario where I'd end up Alpha, since it'd pretty much take everyone dying.”

Which obviously, though Derek doesn't say so, the Hales could imagine even less. There had been no reason to, after all.

“The only reason I am Alpha is because I took it from Peter, and the same was true for him. If Laura had died from natural causes, or well, anything other than the hand of another werewolf, then I believe it would have passed to Cora. The same goes for if the hunters had been the ones to kill Peter instead of me.”

The atmosphere's heavy, and Stiles kind of wishes he hadn't brought the subject up. Of course, there's no way he could have not, what with everything, but still. He didn't expect **this**. Not the grief in Derek's voice as he's talking about his family. He should have, but he didn't.

“I'm not very good at being the Alpha – as you've pointed out, countless times.”

“You're doing better though,” Stiles offers. Because he is. Even if Stiles isn't able to see for himself how things are in Beacon Hills these days, he's got Scott as his eyes and ears – whether he wants to or not – and besides, it's obvious. Derek **is** doing better, in every way.

“I am. Dr Bianchi's helped a lot, as has Quil Sr, and your whole pack. But that doesn't change the facts. I am never going to be the kind of Alpha that my mom was, or that Laura could have been. But Cora can. She can be the kind of Alpha a pack deserves, and it would be cruel of me to deny them that – or her.

“Besides, it's for me too. I told you, I was never meant for this, and I never wanted it. I was meant to live as a beta, and I'd be happier to do so.

“Everything I'm doing, the meditation, the sessions with Dr Bianchi, the tutoring... It's helping. But I'm still not as stable as I should be. The Alpha power, it's, I feel as if it's fighting me. It's volatile. And I can feel the negativity in the packbonds pull at me at times, and I... I don't think I'm strong enough to take that in the long run. It would be so easy to give in, to just let myself be ruled by that, and that scares me.”

Derek takes a deep, shaking breath.

“If I do, what I'll become then, that's not who I want to be. Not as an Alpha, and not as a man.”

And there's nothing Stiles can say to that. Or rather, there's nothing he wants to say, not when he's trying to be a good person, and not hurt Derek. Everything he wants to say, everything he wants to ask will hurt right now. And so he doesn't. Instead he nods, and reaches out, letting one hand rest on Derek's arm for a while in support and understanding.

They sit together in silence until the sun sets, and part without saying anything.

 

Sleep comes slowly that night.

 

The next day starts with a breakfast at Sam and Emily's. Stiles is silent, lost in his thoughts and debating whether or not to try and talk to Derek again. Everyone else makes up for it though – even Derek. He's being interrogated about New York, about what the city's like, and what it's like to live there as a werewolf, and is surprisingly cooperative. It's not hard to tell that he enjoyed the city, and it doesn't take long for someone – Kimberly, bless her – to ask if he misses it.

“Yes and no. It was, back when we moved there it was exactly what I needed. And there are a lot of things I miss, things that just aren't an option in a smaller town. But I wouldn't want to move back. Visit, yes, maybe even for a longer period of time when things stabilize back in Beacon Hills, but not live there permanently.”

That, of course, leads to questions about whether Derek can leave Beacon Hills, and a longer explanation that can be comprised into “yes, he can and he will, at least for a short time”.

And well. That's Stiles's answer right there, isn't it. Now all he needs to do is be brave. Right. “All”. What a joke.

 

Stiles ends up leaving early, claiming a headache – which isn't too far from the truth, what with all the spinning and buzzing in his head. It's not like he's got an appetite anyway, and the fact that most of the people in the house can smell the anxiety on him just, well, it's too much. He does tell Derek he wants to talk before he leaves for Beacon Hills, and get a positive response. So that's that.

When Derek parks next to Stiles's half-finished home it's been a couple of hours, and Stiles has managed to both wind down some and get both sweaty and dirty. (His garden's going to be great next year though, and that's what matters. That, and not being so freaked out he'll scare Derek off before even getting to the point.)

They sit down together on the picnic blanket Stiles keeps on hand, and talk about this and that while Stiles works his way through a bottle of water.

Finally Stiles sees an opening, and talks a bit about the imprinted couples, and their lovey-doveyness, before taking a deep breath and plunging in, feet first.

“Embry and I, we're not like that.”

“I've noticed.”

“No, I don't mean it like we're not demonstrative, I mean that we're not romantic. Our relationship is platonic – the only imprint ever to be so.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Before Stiles can answer Derek continues, “not like that. I get why you didn't tell me in the beginning, to keep me from thinking I could have you back, but why tell me now? Why tell me at all?

“Is it to check if I have? Is this you prodding at the bruises, seeing if they still hurt? Wanting to know if I've given up yet?

“Dammit, Stiles, I thought we were past this.”

And there's real hurt in Derek's voice, and Stiles can feel himself echo that hurt, because damn, he fucked this up.

“We are! I am, I mean, I want us to be?” And that comes out as more of a question than he'd like it to.

“And I'm not asking to hurt you, I'm not, I don't want that anymore. I just... I can't not. Derek, I can't not know this. I need to know. Please?”

Stiles can't look at the man next to him, just sit there and try not to sink too deep into misery and fear – or hope for that matter – and he's actually shivering. While sitting in the sun, next to a human space heater (he tried the term “fur-nace” once, and well, never again). Yeah, let's pretend he's cold, not terrified.

“I've given up.” And Stiles's heart stops for a beat or five. “That's what you want to hear, right? That I've given up on you. I'm not, I still have feelings for you, but I don't believe they'll get me anything. Given time they too will go away. But you don't have to worry about me holding on to any kind of hope.”

He swallows, repeatedly, lump in his throat and heartbeat all over the place, and he can **feel** Derek staring at him.

“What if– what if I don't want that? What if I want you to not give up on me yet?”

There's a sharp sound, like Derek inhaled air instead of breathing it in, and then nothing. Stiles feels his heart sink. He waited too long, didn't he? He couldn't have done this earlier, not until he was done figuring things out, but it's beginning to look like he's too late.

“What.” And okay, not good. Derek's back to one word sentences, and statements instead of questions. Really not good.

Still. He's started this – he'll finish it too. He has to.

“Back... Back in Beacon Hills, back before any of this started, I liked you. I found you attractive, and was developing a pretty powerful crush on you, but more importantly I was beginning to **like** you. I thought we were on the way to becoming friends. And then we began sleeping together, and everything went to shit, and I realized I didn't really like you anymore.

“I'm not saying this to hurt you, I'm not, just... That's how it was, okay? And I missed that, that feeling of us becoming closer, and being headed somewhere. Then I left, and that was that, right? Only it wasn't, because you came after me.

“And then we started over. After the magic unraveled, we started talking again, and one day I realized we were in a place where I liked you again. It was problematic, obviously, what with the whole you having feelings for me, and me not being quite over you, and the two of us only supposed to be friends, but still.

“I didn't say anything, or even think about it much, because knowing you actually liked me didn't change that much. We're fucked up, you and me, both as separate persons and together. We're pretty damned broken in some ways, and even though we're getting better that's still true.

“But more importantly, this is my home now, and you belong in Beacon Hills. That wasn't exactly a recipe for a happy ending.”

“And then you found out about me passing the Alpha power to Cora.”

It's not a question.

“What are you saying here, Stiles? You want me to, what, give up everything and move here? For you?”

“No! I mean, yes, but not– Fuck! Okay, can I just... Try this again?”

Derek nods, and Stiles searches for the right words to communicate what it is he's asking.

“When I found out, god. I spent so much time thinking about what that meant – what it **could** mean – because I hadn't quite given up either. And do you know what? I can't help but think that means something. That the fact that we've found a way to connect again means something.

“I want it to mean something. I want it to mean a lot.”

Stiles pauses for breath, swallows hard, and looks at his hands.

“I think we could be more than we are, together. It'd take work, and time, and probably quite a few visits to Dr Bianchi, but. I think we could do it.

“I'm being selfish, and greedy, and probably all kinds of stupid, but I want to try. I want us to try, together. For real. If you're not longer the Alpha that means you're no longer bound to Beacon Hills. Sure, you'll still have Cora there, and the pack, but you won't be stuck. You could go somewhere else. You could go here.

“And I know, okay, I **know** it's a lot to ask, that me asking you to do that is a dick move, and so so selfish, but I... I can't go back. I can't, not for you, and not for anyone. But you, you could leave. I'm not saying leave it all behind, but, I don't know, we could share you? Cora and I? You could stay with her, but you could stay with me too.

“I know it huge, and a big risk, but it's a lot to win too, isn't it? And if you want this too, if you're willing to try, then I'll share too. Everything I have, everything I am. I'll share.”

Stiles loses steam just about there, and his voice trails off to be almost a whisper as he says the last thing on his mind.

“We could have each other, if you want that.”

That's it. That's all he's got. Now it's up to Derek, and all Stiles can do is wait. And so he does.

“Cora's got two years left of school, two years before she'll be ready to take the pack. I wouldn't be able to come here any more often than I have been – so that means you'd only get a small part of me. And Stiles, you don't really do well with having only a small part of anything. I've seen you, and I know. And honestly? I don't either.

“Plus, you know what I'm like. You **know** whats lurking underneath the surface. Are you really prepared to take that risk again?”

Derek's arguments are fair, and solid, but also nothing Stiles hasn't thought about on his own. He's sure. He nods, and hears a soft noise of surprise. When Derek speaks again his voice is a little rough.

“We were a train-wreck. There are so many arguments against this, and I don't know if there's a single one for. Yes, I want you. I want us. I just don't know if taking the risk by trying is worth it. It could be amazing, or it could be the stupidest thing either of us has ever done. And Stiles, we've done a **lot** of stupid things.”

Stiles feels movement, and then Derek's hand covers his, warm and strong and comforting.

“But I do want it. Enough that I can't talk myself into being smart and cautious about it. So if you're willing to take the risk, then I am too.”

Derek slots their fingers together, and Stiles not only lets him, but welcomes it, and feels a bubbly warmth spread throughout his body. They sit together side by side, fingers linked and shoulders touching, and it's terribly chaste and so unlike anything they've ever had.

Stiles thinks it's a really great second start.

 

_~ TBC ~_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so. This fic fell of the face of the earth for the last year and a half, and I have no excuses except “I didn’t feel like I could write for most of that time”.
> 
> Not at all the chapter I’d outlined - more like 1/3 of that, so forget that chapter count - but it’s an update. And I  **swear**  I’m going to finish this, okay, because otherwise the 3k of selfindulgent, very me, finale would be wasted writing and no one wants that, right?
> 
> Anyway: UPDATE!

 

 

Just about everyone around him has an opinion on Stiles giving Derek a second chance. Almost no one is optimistic. Leah goes the furthest though. She tells him – repeatedly – that he's being stupid. It hits him harder than he lets on, with her being so much of a role model for him. At the same time...

Leah's healing now, yeah, but for so long she wasn't and Stiles doesn't want that for himself – years of letting bitterness and pain rule him. Stiles tells her that, or tries to. Says that he's working on how to be stronger. Braver. She screams at him for two minutes straight, and then storms out.

Who knows, maybe she's right. Maybe bravery is just another word for stupidity. Maybe this is the stupidest thing he's ever done. He just knows he needs to. Because it also has the potential to be the best thing ever.

And Stiles is willing to be more than a little stupid in order to win that.

He's in love with Derek, none of the bad shit has changed that, and he's giving the two of them a chance. If Derek hurts him again, this time without outside influences, then Stiles will cut all ties. Will allow his pack to take whatever vengeance is deemed suitable. But. Derek – not the Alpha, no, because Stiles isn't accepting an Alpha in this, not ever again – feels deeply for him. That means something.

Maybe it means everything.

  
  


The only person who doesn't call him some version or other of idiot is Embry. As grateful as he is, Stiles doesn't really get it, and it keeps bugging him. When he finally breaks down and asks the answer is so simple he's ashamed to have missed it.

“You're my imprint. That means giving you what you need. And if what you need is to give Derek a second chance? I'm going to back you up. It doesn't mean I'm not worried, it just means that I'll support you.

“But, Stiles? Since we're apparently talking about it, I have a question for you. Remember back when we first met, how you reacted when Sam told you I wasn't into guys?”

Yeah. Stiles remembers. He remembers all too well exactly how scared that statement and its implications had made him.

“And remember when you told me about how Derek had acted in pretty much the way you were terrified I would? Now, can you understand how that makes me more than a little worried? Because it really, really does. And the fact that the guy who would never take that from me is apparently willing to let it slide now...”

“Em. Just, no. Look, there's a pretty huge difference in what I might be willing to let slide between the guy I'm choosing to date, and the guy I've supposedly been chosen for, where I get no say at all. The situation's nothing alike, okay?

“Derek did have all those issues with internalized homophobia, and he did take it out on me, and that was so not okay. But. He's over it. He's worked through it, with a professional, and being attracted to a guy isn't an issue any longer. Also, as weird as it sounds, if there were any lingering issues? Not really a problem in the same way, because magic isn't pushing him in that direction any longer.”

And wow, having to use “because magic” as an argument for anything never stopped feeling strange.

“But in the end? If Derek fucks up again, I can – and will – walk away. That's an option I have with him that didn't really exist with you. Because if I dump Derek? What's he going to do? Growl at me? That'll help,  **not**. He knows I can hurt him, and that I'm protected now, and me giving him a second chance is miracle enough for him. But you? You had the whole 'gift from the spirits' thing, and not just one but two werewolf packs backing you up. What basically equals religious fanatic with muscle back-up against a scrawny kid with no real support at all? Yeah. Walking away wouldn't have been an option for me had you been that guy, would it?”

It's not a happy conversation, and they're both flinching more than not, but maybe it's good that they're doing this. Getting it out into the air.

Plus. Stiles really does want to give the whole dating Derek thing an honest try. Having his 'wolf on his side will make that so more painless.

“But you, all of you, you're a huge part of why I can do this, why I feel  **safe** doing this. You know that, right? I know my pack will be there for me if I need them, and in fact, the can of mace that'll make sure Derek backs off if I want him to? That's because of you guys too.

“So I'm grateful that you're worried, but honestly, I'm fine. I will be fine. And the second I'm not I'll dump his grumpy ass and come straight to you. That good enough for you,  **big brother**?”

He says the last two words in a teasing lilt, hoping for levity, and smiles in relief when Embry relaxes.

“Fine. And as I said, I'll back you up. I support you completely, you know that, right? As long as you're safe and happy. But Stiles? If he hurts you again, I'm going to show him exactly why I'm a superior breed of werewolf and rip him to pieces. Unless that happens though? I'll be behind you 200%.”

Hearing Embry's words, knowing he has that kind of support... It makes Stiles's heart grow at least two sizes in his chest, and everything feels so warm. It's unconditional, and amazing, and everything he could ever have asked for. And it's just what he needs.

The resulting hug lasts longer than Stiles would be comfortable with, had it been anyone else, but. It's Embry. It's his  **soulmate**. The platonic part changes nothing about how important that is. And that's why Embry is the only one to get an answer that has no defenses.

“It's not about giving Derek a second chance. Or well, it is, but it also isn't. It's not just him that needs it. I need one too. I've been make shit judgment calls for years, and that's the reason behind  **so**  much of all this. I'm doing better now, I think, but I need to see if my judgment can be trusted.  **That's**  what I need to give a second chance.

“That Derek, and  **me** and Derek, also gets one? That's kind of just a bonus.”

Because it is. He wants this relationship to work. He really, really does. But if, in the end, it doesn't? As long as it's not because Derek turned out to not be worthy of the trust Stiles has decided to show him, then a breakup would be hard, but doable.

Stiles just needs to have a life where he can have faith that things will  **work**.

As much as telling the pack is difficult, and leads to some less than comfortable discussions – and arguments – it's still preferable to telling his dad. Because unlike with the pack his dad has a ton of background details to fill out whatever story Stiles gives him, and all the chances of putting it all into a clear picture that Stiles doesn't want him to see.

He even considers not telling his dad, and that's a first since the move, and a warning. If he can't tell his dad about dating Derek, Stiles knows, then he really can't go through with it. No more secrets, that was the point, right?

Only, they've dialed back some on that. Not lying is good, not having secrets is too, to a degree. Just, everyone should be entitled to their secrets according to John Stilinski, as long as those secrets doesn't hurt others. And Stiles, well, Stiles has to agree. He does, after all, still have two major secrets, even after swearing to himself he was done with that; Derek and Aiden.

Those are not the kind of secrets you share with someone who works law-enforcement, after all, not something you burden them with. His dad is keeping quiet about the Alpha pack's murders, yes, but that's because they were a bunch of vicious killers, and killing them was just a form of self-defense. Extreme, but still.

Telling him about more crimes though... No thanks. That's asking too much.

One of the last things Stiles wants to do is tell his dad he killed someone. Oh, John Stilinski would let it go, would never investigate or charge Stiles. Not when, again, it's self-defense. Because it truly was – it was Stiles or Aiden, and John would never fault Stiles for making the choice of being the one to walk away alive.

Plus, it's not like they could prove that Stiles acted in the only manner he could, not without bringing up werewolves – and landing at least one of them in a mental hospital.

Anyway, having to keep that secret is not something Stiles wants to burden his father with.

As for Derek... Well. Stiles can't see telling his dad about  **that** ever ending well. There's no reason for John to not charge Derek with statutory rape – and possibly more – and every reason for that to end in disaster. So yeah. When push comes to shove Stiles would rather tell his dad he killed someone than that he used to have sex with Derek before leaving Beacon Hills.

John asks, of course, and it's obvious he's suspicious, but Stiles manages to talk himself out of that. He thinks. He tells a few lies, as much as he doesn't want to, and pretties up the truths as much as he can, and generally tries to make Derek look like the date-able guy of now instead of the power-tripping Alpha-asshole of then.

  
  


Of course, life being what it is, being with Derek isn't as easy as Stiles had hoped. Oh, it had been a very small hope, since  **nothing**  with Derek has been easy since that very first day in the preserve, years ago, but still. He'd held on to that tiny glimmer of hope. Of course, it's not as bad as he'd feared either, but. It's too close.

They don't see each other as often as Stiles (or Derek for that matter) would like, but in the bigger picture that's a small detail. The huge issue is their fighting, and how it's basically always brought on by Derek being an Alpha-asshole.

He brushes it away the first time. (Or rather, he pushes it away, onto a mental shelf marked “for later”, or maybe “just in case”.) The second time he sits down afterwards and goes over everything.

It's not that bad. Not yet. But the truth is, as much as Stiles would like to pretend otherwise, that Derek is displaying much of the same behavior that led to Stiles fleeing Beacon Hills. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just Derek having a really bad day (okay, two). Or maybe it's Derek sliding back into his old behavior.

Maybe he really hasn't gotten better after all. Maybe it was all just a sham, and now that he's gotten what he wanted (Stiles back? Scott calmed? Something else?) Derek feels safe to drop the act.

Whatever it is, Stiles knows he can't ignore the warning signs. He's done that once before, and never again. He won't be that guy. He's stronger than that now, is healthier than that.

So. What to do? In the end, Stiles decides to go with the tried and true “three strikes” rule. That means Derek gets one more chance, and if he fucks up, then that's it. Out the door it is. Stiles might be in love with Derek, but that doesn't make him a doormat.

Besides. Maybe it really has been just bad days, and Derek won't fuck up again.

  
  


Derek fucks up again.

Stiles doesn't throw him out.

Oh, he's seconds from it; he's got his hand on the handle, about to throw the door open, and his panic button in the other hand, finally grateful that his pack insisted on one. But then he hears Derek.  **Really**  hears him, instead of just letting the angry ranting flow over him.

“What did you say?”

“I  **said** , I can't believe you would do this,” Derek bites out between his teeth.

“Not that, before. Derek, did you come straight here? Like, did you come straight to my place, without stopping at the rez or Dr Bianchi's office first? You  **did** , didn't you?

“And it's not the first time either.”

It's not a question, because suddenly it's all so very clear. As much as they'd both like to think differently, Derek still isn't free from what the Darach and Deaton did to him. He's still not impervious to the negative effects of the packbonds. He still needs healing – and if he's been skipping out on that, well. That would explain more than a few things.

He sees Derek hesitate, and knows the wolf is debating how to answer. Whether or not to tell the truth.

“Please. Just tell me the truth. I won't be mad, even if you screwed up. Not as long as you're honest. We can't fix this if you lie to me.”

Because if that’s what’s the problem here, then it’s something that can be fixed, and that Stiles  **wants**  to fix. And Derek seems to pick up on that, because he deflates and nods.

“Okay, yeah, I did that. You're far enough away that I can't see you nearly as often as I want – as you want. As you deserve. So I take every opportunity, regardless of how short a period of time. Sometimes... Spending maybe half of that to go up to LaPush and Quil, when I can stop here and actually spend that time with you? In what scenario wouldn't I chose you instead?

“Besides, the pack's stabilized so much, I can  **feel**  it, and Dr Bianchi told me that'd carry over.

“And we've been fine, haven't we?”

Stiles swallows, because as much as Derek probably intended for that last statement to sound decisive, and authoritative, it just comes out as vulnerable. In need of reassurance. He... He wants to say he's stronger than that, but. He can feel himself melting.

At the same time he's going over Derek's visits, and his behavior, and if Derek really has been neglecting his “therapy”, both actual and magical, whenever he's pulled one of his surprise visits to Stiles in Seattle then it all makes sense.

Every single fight they've had has occurred in Seattle. Every single flash of temperament from Derek has happened here. And they've gotten worse.

Which is why, even though Stiles is touched, he has to put his foot down. Before everything completely derails. Again.

Besides, as much as Derek is (probably) right about the pack being more stable – having Cora there, and Scott back, and Danny gone has helped a lot, from what Stiles can tell – it's not enough. Not when Derek have so many more issues.

Not when Peter is still part of the pack. Because while Stiles won't say it, he truly believes the only way for the Hale pack to be truly healthy is to get rid of Peter. (Preferably by killing him. Again.) But that's another conversation. One they’ll probably never have.

“No, we haven't. Not really, Derek, not if we're honest. Now, you're going to go sit down, and I'm going to make a call to see how we can fix this. No,” he holds up a hand – not the one holding the panic button – to both silence Derek and stop him in his tracks, “you are going to do as I say or leave. Those are your only options, Derek. And if you leave, don't come back. Not ever.”

Derek sits down.

Old Quil is obviously upset when Stiles reaches him – Dr Bianchi is out of town, her messaging service informs – and very worried. He's also, thankfully, able to both stay calm and suggest a solution.

They're lucky – Stiles has everything his mentor tells him he needs on hand. Or well, it's not as much luck as it is lingering paranoia (though, does it still count as paranoia when it's been repeatedly proven that a/ monsters do exist and b/ they really are out to get him?) but still.

The chest under his bed is fully stocked with everything they need – and more. (Stiles's blades, for instance, are probably not necessary at the moment. Not if he does this right. So, like, no pressure.)

With the list in one hand Stiles pulls out herbs and candles, rocks and crystals and a totem old Quil's made for him, and then he adds a few things just in case. He mixes what he can only think of as a potion, watches Derek like a hawk while the man downs it with an extra grumpy face, and then steels himself for the ritual.

It feels like trying to wrestle an uncooperative wolf, like channeling the forces from a nuclear power plant to light a desk lamp – all while blindfolded and with one hand tied behind his back. It leaves him drained, feeling like a wet rag, but it works. Stiles can  **feel**  it work, and even if he couldn't, it's obvious as hell on Derek's face.

Once they've recovered enough to do anything except pant for breath – and it's very telling that that takes just as long for Derek as it does for Stiles – Stiles decides to address the elephant in the room.

“Derek? We need to talk.

“What you did today, coming here to see me, even when it meant more hours on the road than together... It means a lot to me that you'd be willing to do that. It tells me that this, us, means a lot to  **you**.

“That said? You can't do this again. I'm serious. You skipped seeing either Dr Bianchi or old Quil before coming here, because you didn't feel you had the time, and that showed.

“I don't want you to come here if that's the Derek I'm getting. I left my home to get away from that behavior – I'm not having it in my new home. I know you don't have to be like that, I've seen you change, become better. I've seen you healthier. And that's who I agreed to date. The healthy”  _sane_  “Derek. The one that isn't being twisted by the pack bonds, or magic.”

_The one that doesn't scare me_ , he thinks but doesn't say.

“We both know you need the help you've getting to connect to your anchor. You're doing so much better, yes, but you're not ready to do it on your own yet. So please, even if it takes away from the time we get together, you need to do it. I'd rather have one hour with the  **real**  you than a day with...this.”

Of course, that assumes that the Derek that isn't an Alpha-asshole  **is**  the real Derek, but Stiles refuses to believe otherwise. For now.

“I need you to do that, or I can't do  **this**. I'm giving you one last chance, because I truly don't think you realized how badly you were fucking up, but if you do this again? That's it.”

Stiles knows Derek hears the truth in his words, in his heartbeat. Now all he can do is hope that the wolf will listen.

“But you fixed it. Fixed me. Why can't I just come straight to you, and you do it every time? At least when time's short?”

The desire to either slam his head into a wall or his fist into Derek's face is almost overwhelming. That Derek can be so, so stupid after what just happened is, well, infuriating. Of course, Stiles realizes, he probably doesn't understand exactly how bad things really were.

“Derek, what I did?  **So**  an emergency fix-it. It's... It's the magical equivalent of using duct-tape to put you back together, dammit. So yeah, sure, I managed to fix it this time, but I can't, no, I  **won't**  do it again.

“Do you realize that what you're asking me to do is to fucking  **McGuyver**  your emotional stability, your soul, your safety? And mine, while we're at it, all things considered. I'm really not going to do that. Not unless it actually  **is**  an emergency.” Because as much as Stiles wants to say he'll never subject himself to that again, he's self-aware enough to know he won't stand aside in case of an emergency,  **and**  he's realistic enough to know that with their lives there  **will**  be emergencies.

Just wanting to see each other sooner, or more often, though? That doesn't count.

“I  **want**  to see you, and spend time with you. I really do. All the time I can get – I'm greedy like that. But we have to be smart about it. Be safe. Because I don't want to spend that time being afraid that you're going to lose it because you didn't want to take an hour to have a professional make sure you're okay. Which I'm not. I'm an amateur, an apprentice at best!

“I can't take that risk. Not with you – and not with me.”

Both their tempers are about to flare up, and Stiles makes a conscious effort to stop that from happening.

“I'm going to go make some tea, and once that's done we can talk more, okay? Just, sit here. Relax. Make sure you're actually fine and I didn't miss anything.”

Making tea gives Stiles time to calm down properly, and sort through his thoughts and feelings. Once they're both seated with a cup he starts over, tries to be more rational.

“What old Quil uses on you, what he helps you with, it's tribal magic. That's what gives him the strength to combat what's been done to you, to strengthen your anchor.

“And that magic? It's not mine, it's not for me to use.

“My bond with Embry makes me pack, yes, and technically that makes me a member of the Quileute tribe as well. But it really is  **only** technically. When push comes to shove, I'm not part of the tribe.”

And Stiles is more than fine with that. Deep down he doesn’t  **want**  to belong to the tribe, because that would be to give up just one piece too many of himself. But. It’s not about that now.

“That in turns means the magic won't respond to me – or maybe that it doesn't  **want**  to. Sure, what I did earlier, that used the tribal magic, but only because I had permission. I couldn't have done it otherwise. And without that, I, I'm just not strong enough. I don't have the power to be anything except your last resort, so please,  **please**  Derek, let the people who actually have the power to help you do it. Even if you don't think us being together is a good enough reason, you should do it for you. For your pack, and your sister.”

He reaches for Derek’s hand and squeezes it a little.

“You  **need**  this. And I, I don't think you want to risk either one of us any more than I do.”

Stiles looks into Derek’s eyes and tries to project his sincerity, tries to convey how much he really does care.

Derek's face still has that stubborn twist, but Stiles’ words makes it practically melt away, leaving dejected exhaustion behind.

“I just want to spend time with you. I wanted to give you a nice evening, take you out on a real date. Only I completely fucked that up, didn't I?” He snorts. “Pretty sure the restaurant's given our table away by now. Not that either of us is in shape to go out, I guess.”

Stiles appreciates the thought, he really does, but. He'd have appreciated a heads-up and an anchored Derek a lot more. He doesn't say anything about that though. Chances are Derek will have realized that himself by now, and if he hasn't, well, Stiles has had enough drama for one night.

They still do “dinner and a movie”, except instead of the restaurant and an actual movie theater Derek had planned for they order in food and watch Mulan on Stiles's laptop. Comfort movie – don't knock it. (Once it would have been the Lion King. Stiles kind of thinks Peter needs to die extra much for ruining that movie for him.)

  
  


Stiles doesn't even make it halfway through the movie. He blames the magic, though admittedly the fight before and the outpouring of feelings after didn't help. He's  **drained**. So's Derek, apparently, because when Stiles wakes up a couple of hours later (slumped against Derek's shoulder) the wolf is out like a light.

So much for not being able to stay for long.

For a minute Stiles debates letting Derek sleep, but in the end pragmatism wins out. With how eager Derek was to see him, if he doesn't feel secure enough to stay for more than a couple of hours, then he's got to have a really good reason. Well. A  **pack**  of them probably.

And if in the end Derek does think staying is an option? He'll rest better laying down – even if it'll be on the floor, on the spare mattress. As nice as it felt just now, waking up with Derek's smell in his nose, and Derek's body heat close, the truth is that they're not at the bed-sharing stage yet.

Stiles isn't ready.

Somehow, he thinks that might be true for Derek too.

  
  


Less than a minute after Stiles closes the door behind Derek – he hasn't even made it into bed yet – his phone buzzes. “Let me in” the message reads. It's from Embry. Stiles...isn't surprised. He fully expected old Quil to let at least Jake and Sam know what's happened, and to be honest he's kind of impressed that it's taken this long for a wolf to show up. He's also impressed that it's just the one wolf, not the whole pack.

They do tend to see him as fragile, after all.

Regardless, it's always good to have his wolf with him. And if a part of him thinks it'd be even better with another wolf... Yeah, well. It is what it is. Also, one of the things it is is probably better this way.

For now.

  
  


The next morning Stiles intends to sneak out before Embry notices – it's called having an early class, okay? – but that's a bust. For one, Embry's awake before him, and besides, it turns out that Stiles is not fit for sneaking that morning. His head's a bit foggy, and he sways when trying to stand up. It's possible he could make it through class, but getting there might be a problem. It's not one he has to bother about though, because Embry takes one look at him, and pushes him back into bed.

“You're staying home today. No, I don't care how important this class is. Your health is more important. Right now? You'd just as likely break your neck stumbling on a cobblestone as make it to class in one piece.”

And well, he's not wrong. Stiles has stumbled over nothing more than once before, and today feels like just the kind of day when he could do that and end up seriously hurting himself while at it. Plus, the idea of spending the day in bed sounds lovely.

“Old Quil told me you'd probably be a wreck today. So, you are going to call school, then you're going to eat the breakfast I'm making you, and after that you're taking a nap. Okay?”

Stiles agrees, because yeah, he could do that. Also, nowhere did Embry mention talking about yesterday's train-wreck, so Stiles is just going to nod along and try to fall asleep before he can remember that.

Of course it's not quite that easy. He gets to nap in peace, and have lunch and a shower, and then a second nap, but that's it. Embry is patient, and smart, and waits until a ravenous Stiles is occupied with dinner before starting the interrogation. And Stiles is still fuzzy enough to not see it coming, or to come up with a good deflection for that matter.

“So. This is where you try and convince me I shouldn’t plan for me and Paul to take a trip to Beacon Hills.”

Stiles knows he must have that deer-in-the-headlights look. It’s not pretty - he’s seen pictures. Embry is patient though, waits him out until Stiles has managed to both find words and make his tongue cooperate.

“Because I’d be very unhappy with you both?” Okay, no, not a good reason. Not good enough anyway, not for anyone who cares about him.

He would be very unhappy, really, just… Embry’s going to need more convincing than that. Paul is  **definitely**  going to need more. They’ve seen him break. They have both made it very clear they don’t intend to let it happen again.

“Look, he fucked up. Not denying that. And he’s on his last chance, for real. Just, if I’m going to cut everyone who fucks up out of my life? I’m going to be very lonely. I’d also have to start with my dad, which  **obviously** , not happening. Ever.

“What Derek did was idiotic, but also… I get it. I do. First of all, he warned me. Not that he’d do something like this,” Stiles hastens to add, because Embry’s beginning to really look murderous at that comment, “just, that he wouldn’t take only getting a small part of me well. Which, fair. I wouldn’t have given him a chance if I thought he would be happy with that. And you know, maybe I should have taken that as more of a warning than I did.

“But Derek, he… He’s been doing so much better, and it’s… Okay. It’s like when my dad was drinking too much after my mom, and then he cut down, only he couldn’t make himself admit that he was enough of an alcoholic by then that maybe what he needed to do wasn’t cut down but  **stop**.”

By now John’s at a point where he can have a beer without a single warning bell going off in Stiles’s head. That’s only just now though, and well, John rarely does drink these days.

“And it’s kind of the same with Derek. He didn’t want to admit he wasn’t strong enough to do this without help. Just like I didn’t want to admit I couldn’t.”

Because honestly? There are so many instances where Stiles should have asked for help, should have asked anyone, and maybe things wouldn’t have gone to shit. Besides… He can understand why Derek would try and avoid getting help, regardless of his promises. Because underneath everything? There’s still the fact that Deaton was supposed to help him, and chose to cast spells on him instead. And Derek sure as hell should have been able to expect help from Peter, which… Yeah.

“I was so dead set on being able to do it myself I didn’t even think about getting help until after I flipped and tried to slit Paul’s throat. At least Derek didn’t almost kill someone.”

And wow, now Stiles  **really**  feels like crap. Plus Embry looks like he’s been kicked in the nads. Yup, this day is a clear contender for shitshow of the year.

“Maybe he didn’t. But I’m not sure I want to take that risk, not knowing what he could do to you. It’s not my show though, so I guess what matters is are you  **sure**?”

“Sure enough to give him one more shot.” And then, because honesty is important here. “Unsure enough that I’m going to check that he gets his magic detox from now on. After today, he’s not getting within touching distance of me without clearance from either Dr Bianchi or old Quil, or both.”

Embry looks like that’s not good enough, and maybe it’s not. Stiles is going to let it be though. Or no. He’s going to  **believe** that it will be good enough, and if it’s one thing he’s learned it’s that his belief? Can be pretty damned powerful.

  
  


**~ TBC ~**

  
  



End file.
